Before the Grey
by party.every.day
Summary: Eventual BellaXJasper:Then I realized two things: one, his breath smells much like human blood and last time I checked he wasn't into humans. Two, Jasper Hale is staring at me with only a few insignificant inches between us, and I do not want to move.
1. The grey

Summary: I wonder why she would want to die so badly, what could possibly make a young girl like her so suicidal. I wish that she did not want it so badly, I wish I didn't have to kill her, I wish I knew her name…

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The colors danced and swirled lively, brightening the dark room. It was not a particularly large room, but it was large for a hotel. However, it _was_ rather nice, what with the plasma T.V. in the middle of the wall. A wall that stood parallel to a spotless white couch and the room's occupants who happened to be sitting on that plush couch.

A flash of white and darkness flooded the room for about a second until the same livid person with the seductively attractive voice appeared again. And she was singing. She was screaming and crying out along to the beat, with her flawless snow-white skin and sharp black eyes, flowing mahogany hair with natural crimson highlights down to her waist swung about her.

The guitars melody and drum's beat howled along with her, bending the sound and waving it in and out to the complicated harmony woven along with her words of a loveless romance. It amazed you; it was so perfectly put together, so well written it was out of the ordinary. Even the person that avoided head-banging heavy metal rock would be lured in by her powerful voice if not for her angelic face contorted in to a pained expression.

She was restless on the screen, spinning, twirling, waving her arms high above her head, twisting and doubling over so absorbed in the not-so-simple song. Even in her wildest moments she was lithe, her body drenched in the passionate grace of a goddess. She was simply radiant. To say her band members were bright like stars on a moonless night just wouldn't do.

They shook and swayed and moved with their instruments in hand, fingers moving swiftly over strings, arms swinging wildly keeping the rhythm in check. They were god in this universe of mind-blowing perfection of sound. Their faces showed varying degrees of emotions through out the song, tensed afraid to let loose their secrets to the world through their melodies, relieved to be exposed, afraid that their words would be taken with out being embraced by their intended meanings, scared that they would never again attain release at such a magnitude.

And then the song ends with a burst of power leaving the listener dazed and gripping the last of the haunting notes that hang tangibly in the air. Addicting like a substance, powerful and inspiring, a painting of words sewn together by master artists.

However, it is not the touching depth or her words, or the writhing tortured expression that is sometimes mirrored by her dark yet alluring counter parts that leaves the current viewer astonished. It is the recognition, the familiarity that slowly sets in after minutes of watching that leaves the blond woman, who is an angel of darkness herself, mortified. Eyes wide, jaw dropped low, she is unable to move, wrapped in thoughts that are racing in her mind not giving an answer to many questions that she is too stunned and terrified to even _ask._

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_**Chapter 1: **_

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It's dark on the bus, the curtains permanently drawn across the transparent glass, blocking the persistent rays of warm, yellow-white. That isn't unusual, neither is the fact that my almost-brother has been laying on the couch with his arm draped over his eyes for the past two hours even though he can't sleep. He _says_ it's in that position that he gets his inspiration. I am not going to argue with that notion; it's whatever floats his boat.

I look down at my small black notebook, lying closed on the table. Nothing has been coming to me lately; it's the only thing that doesn't have an irritating schedule behind it, my own inspiration. I sigh, deeply, an unneeded amount of air collecting in the empty pit below my throat.

From the front of the bus, Aubrey turns and raises and eyebrow at me, he's supposed to be driving, but his eyes aren't even on the road. We're supposed to be heading some where up north, Alaska maybe, to record our next album. Every one seems to have an infinite amount of patience when it comes to these things. To me the bus just can't go fast enough, though judging by the way the trees and traffic signs speed toward us through the dark tinted windshield, were are probably going eighty or ninety miles per hour.

"What's wrong Bella?" He asks in a voice so low I can barely hear him when I sit down in the passenger seat next to him, my little black book still in my hands.

"Nothing." I stare at the over cast sky, the brush and weeds at the side of the road, the nothingness that fills the land for miles. Over time, the large purplish lumps I'd only seen in movies and post cards shrink back in the ground, and I can almost see the tops of buildings and life.

"Where are we?" My voice must have sounded shaky to him because he looks at me with his brow puckered, as if he's worried I'm having a break down.

"Washington." The lightening flashes, and clouds blacken, raindrops fall swifter, harder onto the glass the farther north we travel. A sense of peace floods through me intercepting a vague feeling of recognition and foreboding that trickles down my spine. I shudder, Aubrey sighs heavily as he flips on the wipers. My eyes follow the black moving across the windshield, words forming in my mind like the smearing moisture across the expanse of glass.

Without warning I flip open my notebook, scrawling words fast across the lined pages, surprisingly the words are neat and legible. From the corner of my eye I can see Aubrey shaking his head at the sudden normalcy of me writing, so soon after my mild episode. The pages fill themselves; another part of me has taken control. Memories I don't have, feelings I have never felt come alive to me, heart break, and anguish. I make it sound like I've experienced them; it feels like a past-life's identity resurfacing shoving me out of the way.

That is how I have always written my songs. Like someone coming up with brilliant lyrics and whispering them in my ear. When I stop, I look at the radio clock on the dashboard, it's been almost an hour since I started but I just might be holding our new hit single in the palm of my hand. I open the window a crack and smell the air outside, gasoline, rain and fast food, _humans._

As our large tour bus pulls into the gas station everyone is suddenly by a door, ready to jump out of the metal hellhole we've been living in for the past three months that we've been on tour. Through the rear view mirror, I can see the shadowy bus come to life. Asher is bent over a mirror combing the sides of his garnet red hair down and expertly gelling the top into three rows of long spiky mow hawks.

Seth just whips his head from side to side, shaking out his dripping curls that usually straighten out all by themselves while they dry, and puts on a dark, long sleeved shirt. Riley feels like being crazy today, obviously, because he deliberately puts on tan shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. He shrugs when I give him a look.

We all exit the bus and jump around a little before heading off in different directions, Seth stays behind to put gas in the bus, he seems out of it. He just stares into space for the longest time before I have to look away before I am caught staring again. I decide to blow off some steam and run south of the way we came from.

After ten minutes of zipping along the countryside, with the mountains as my guide I stop. I didn't expect to find a city, but just as well I have found what I was looking for even if it wasn't were I planned it would be. I walk down the streets quietly taking in the sights, burning them into my brain. Every alley, every shop and car parked along the side of the street catch my attention.

I here a sound in an alley as I pass it, I take a step back and peer curiously into the darkness. A girl, leaning against the side of the building, is crying. Her tears glisten and fall to stain the cement black. Slowly she reaches into her back pocket and pulls out something silvery and thin. I smile wearily at her and approach, as she brings the blade up and across her wrist in a wide ark. I hear her gasp and she falls to her knees, blood beads up along the exposed flesh and pours over on both edges of the cut, the two fat drops meet on the back of her hand and drip to the ground.

I breathe in deeply and walk even more quickly to her slumped, bleeding, masochistic form. Her breathing quickens and she moves the blade up, down and diagonal, vertical, and horizontal. My eyes widen, I grip the wall next to me for support, to stay in control. She looks up at me with terrified eyes, wider then mine. She lifts the blade up to me, beckoning me toward her with it. "Please!" Like asking for candy, like asking me if I would eat it.

I walk too fast for her to see, grabbing her by her upper arm, the one with the knife in it, and pull her deeper into the shadows. She presses the pocketknife in to my hand and looks at me with pleading eyes. "_Please?" "Why?"_

Except I do not ask these questions, if she wants me to kill her more than anything why would I not, how could I not? She asked for it and I give her death, what she wanted. Trying to justify my actions is not at the top of my to-do list at the moment. I grab her wrist and lick the back of her hand where the blood had been pulled by gravity.

I flip over her hand lighting fast, ignore the crack of her bones protesting, and suck at the slashes. The cuts are much deeper than I anticipated; the vein just below her ripped skin is completely severed sending blood in all directions, I don't need to bite her at all. Nevertheless, the blood is coming out too slow, and I have no patience what so ever when it comes to feeding.

I move my mouth from her hand to her neck and bite in. She stiffens then relaxes, she must know what is coming, I am the vampire, and she is the unfortunate girl who gets the life sucked out of her. I wonder why she would want to die so badly, what could possibly make a young girl like her so suicidal. I wish that she did not want it so badly, I wish I didn't have to kill her, I wish I knew her name.

After that last thought it is finished, I pull away and look at her face for the first time, black hair, and dark skin. She looks peaceful with her eyes closed, blissful even. It would be wrong to dump her in a trash can like I have some many others, I already feel bad for killing her, giving her a decent burial is the least I can do.

I open the door to the bus slowly, I feel like crap, and/or very depressed. It is not always like this after I feed, only when the ones like the girl tonight. The ones who are happy to see me, they make me this way. It is nice to know _someone_ in this world has something to live for when they fight back. Then it is even more depressing when I realize I am taking them away from it, their rare, happy world.

I try to keep a straight face as I climb the stairs, it's almost midnight now and everyone's lying around like slobs, graceful, angelic, gorgeous slobs. Asher looks up from reading what I had recently written in my black book and smiles. I raise an eyebrow.

"It's good, I was starting to get worried when I checked the dates on these things and realized you hadn't _written_ _something_ in two days. You know I really think this right here is going all the way to the top!" While I might be sitting next to him, it does not mean I have to listen, so I tune him out for a second. He is like a brother to me and I love him, I really do, but he always gets like this about my lyrics and poems. He would probably be crying if he wasn't undead, he gets so worked up about these things.

When the tone of his voice changes I can tell he is talking about something besides my "brilliant mind" I look up and listen again. "That works out because I wrote something new today too, while you were out." He goes back into the back room to get it and Aubrey takes his place on the small couch.

"So when is the next gas station?" I ask I can already envision the tortures of boredom I will have to endure on the way.

"The Olympic Peninsula," He says it full of wonderful and mysterious sarcasm, "The rainiest city in America, Forks."

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Please review.

..:Disclaimer::.. I do not Twilight, or its characters, but Seth, Aubrey, Asher and Riley are my own.


	2. Black

_Before the Grey:_

No other face could catch my attention so quickly. There was no other human whose face I paid close enough attention to and could spot-without fail-a mile away. With out a doubt I knew it was her, the only human alive that knows my secret. She is so far away now; I don't even know where she is, if she lives in the same house she did when we left.

I can tell by her face that she isn't a little human anymore, her natural traits were still there-heart shaped face, long deep brown hair- but shadowed by her inhuman beauty. I haven't felt anything like it in a while, so when a stab of emotion ripples in my chest I know myself well enough to feel what it is. It infuriates me- this isn't the only time I've ever been jealous of her, but last time it was because she was human, this time it was probably because she was gorgeous.

I Picked up the remote and hit the play button again. There she is flickering on the screen; I feel so close to her, as if I still know her. But, something is wrong, she is not human, her features weren't just special effects.

I take out my phone from my back pocket and dial a number I know by heart. It rings three times before someone answers. "Hello." Esme's soft voice seems hard, as if she had to stop a fight a minute earlier.

"Hey, mom it's Rosalie, you will never guess who I just saw on the television." I pause only for a second to be sure I have her attention, "Isabella Swan." Then there is silence.

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_**Chapter 2:**_

**The Black**

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There is something about the rain that has a calming effect on me. I have only been in this small town for about two hours and I already love it. Maybe it's the fact that I can walk around in the day with out being exposed for what I am by the sun. Here there is almost no sun; a thick layer of dark clouds hangs menacing above all the time.

The machine beeps so I pull the gas pump out of the bus and head toward the small building to pay. At the counter there is a girl buying candy, she turns sharply to stare shocked at me. She wrinkles her nose and glares, I take a step back, not out of intimidation, of coarse, but because she smells worse than anything I've ever smelt. When the cashier gives hands her change she stalks out of the store quickly. I step up and hand him a bill, smiling.

When I walk out of the store the foul smelling girl is there, waiting. I ignore her and walk quickly to the bus; I can see her jaw drop when I turn to get in to the driver's seat. She bolts from her position against the wall, into the woods and disappears.

In the passenger seat, Aubrey's face is contorted into a look of confusion. He looks at me and I can only shrug, so he goes back to flipping the channels of the radio. Once we're out of the gas station, I hit the gas peddle hard, and push down all the way to the floor. I roll down my windows and sigh in contentment. The needle is barely over a hundred miles when a sign whips past us; it says we have past into the city limits. This forces me to slow down; I don't want to run anyone over. Now that wouldn't be healthy for my conscience.

People on the side walks stop and stare as we pass through. Aubrey curses loudly; I look into my mirror and see the red and blue lights of a police car tailing me. I sigh and pull over, wait impatiently for him to walk over and look up into my tinted window.

"Would you please step out of the car ma'am?" It isn't really a question, but the way he says it sound like one. His voice is gruff, his hair graying along the roots and thinning out. His eyes are brown and stern looking, but behind them I can see another, more heavy emotion, sadness. I respect him, I don't know why but he seems like a good man to me.

I open the door slowly and step down, he is several inches taller then me, but height isn't what instills the respect for him in me. I smile and fold my arms across my chest and ask, "Am I going to get a ticket?"

He just looks at me with a dazed expression on his face, like he's trying to find the most suitable punishment for me. After a minute it starts to get awkward, the curtains in the windows tremble.

He clears his throat, obviously pulling out of his reverie, and looks hard at me, "Not this time young lady, I'll cut you some slack today, but the next time I see a giant vehicle speeding down my high ways at such a speed I'm going to have to do something. Do you understand miss?"

I flash him another smile, "Yes, sir." He seems at a loss for words; a second later it looks like he remembers something and closes his mouth, only to open it again to say something.

"So what are you and your friends doing with this monster?" His eyes travel along the length of our intimidating black bus with dark windows.

I laugh at his comparison, and shake my head, "Well my band, _Eclipse _and I are heading up north to record." His curiosity peeks at my mention of Eclipse.

"Where to up north?" he says.

"Denali." I answer. He nods and turns to walk away.

"Remember what I said, take care." I smile, open the door and climb in. The officer looks dazed again, but quickly recovers as it has started to rain again. He jogs back toward his flashing car.

"Let me guess, you charmed him into letting you off the hook?" Asher's spiky head rests on my shoulder; his arm reaches out to change the station.

"No, I didn't charm him; he let me off the hook." I swat his arm away, and turn the volume button loud; my favorite song fills the car. He wrinkles his nose and mutters something too low for me to hear, but I make out the words 'stupid' and 'Debussy'.

I ignore the chief's order, and floor the gas as soon as I pass the city limits.

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I'm so excited when I phase, I sprint ten times faster than I usually would when I'm looking for him. I can't wait to see the look on Jacob's face when I tell him the little discovery I made today.

_Leah, your evil_ Quil shouts in my mind, once he's aware of my thoughts, of course after he gets over his own shock. I'm a little disappointed when I notice I'm not alone. Through his eyes I can see he's closer to the house than I am, I don't need to read his mind to know he plans on finding Jacob before I can get to him. This pushes me harder, and I all but fly through the forest.

The adrenalin and excitement help me reach speeds I had never touched before so, naturally, I get there before Quil. I phase back into human form and try too look casual. I force myself to walk slow and frown. If _he_ knows something is out of the ordinary from the start he'll know to expect something, if doesn't expect anything he'll fall harder into his pit of sorrow.

I close the door slowly and sit down at the table after greeting Billy. Embry, Jared and Jacob are sitting too, eating lunch. I grab a chip from Jared's bag, and ignore his black glare. They all look guarded now that I've joined the table; I can't help but smirk at their weariness.

"Today I went to the gas station; you know the one up in Forks." I start out. Jacob looks at me like I'm stupid and looks like he going to die of boredom soon. I'm almost too eager to see his face crumble in pain to delay my news any longer.

"So?" Paul cuts me off. I look at him for a minute.

"Anyways," I clear my throat and try my hardest to keep the smile inside from surfacing, "You'll never guess _who_ I ran into _there_." I say it slow emphasizing my words. Now that I see that I've gotten their reluctant attention, I drop the bomb, "A vampire. I think her name was Isabella Swan."

In that moment, Quil bursts through the door fallowed by Sam –who, by the way, looks royally pissed off- takes one look at Jacob and knows he's arrived too late.

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It's two in the morning when the rain stops for good, in its stead snowflakes swirl around outside my window. I throw down the remote control frustrated, Seth laughs hard, rolling on to the floor. I shove my fingers through my hair, and contemplate violence if he doesn't stop. I stand up and kick him hard in his side; he grabs my ankle and rips it off the ground. I fly back and hit my head on the granite table top, a loud pop shakes the bus.

My back hits the floor hard, fallowed by the pieces of rock that were chipped off, they rain heavily down into my hair. Hissing, I shove my heel into the bridge of his nose with all of my fury. There is a crack underneath my foot and he gasps. His grip on my ankle is the only thing keeping him from flying upon impact. He snakes his arm around my waist and aims a punch, I block with my forearm, the nails of my other hand dig deep into his abnormally dark skin.

With out a second thought he slams his forehead into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. The bus shakes hazardously; I can hear Asher hit the wall in the shower. _**"Knock it off!"**_ He thunders.

We both pause and stiffen. Taking advantage of this unplanned distraction, I grab Seth by his cute, little curls and throw him off me. He lands lightly, hunched on all fours and smirks darkly at me. I heave a sigh and stand up shaking the razor sharp shards of rock out of my hair in Seth's direction.

The door to the shower opens lightening fast and smacks loudly into Seth's face, Asher steps out in nothing but a towel, his shiny smooth hair laying flat against his head down to his chin. His expression is furious, looks at me with accusing eyes. I smile and shrug, turn and go to sit in the passenger's seat next to Riley.

There is a scuffle in the back of the bus, and some cursing. I look back to see Seth in a headlock, a ferocious expression on his face. Aubrey sighs heavily, wandering out of the back room, side steps Seth and Asher to fall heavily on the couch. When Seth slams Asher on to the ground, the bus rocks hard.

Aubrey sighs heavily again and moans, "Are we _there yet_?" Riley's face lights up and he points at the landscape on the other side of the glass.

"Yes!" His voice is mildly amused. I hear Seth backhand Asher, he, and Aubrey appear next to me looking out the window. The sun, barely raised over the mountains, casts an orange glow through the bus. Some one turns the lights off and we all stare quietly in to the approaching sunrise.

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Please, review.


	3. White

_Before the Grey:_

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_Chapter 3: _

**The White**

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My breath does not turn into a puffy cloud of white and disperse like it used to when I was human. I fall into the white and spread my arms out and in like they do in the movies. The radiating cold from the snow does not make me shiver, doesn't make me cold, actually I barely notice it. I stand up to admire my perfect snow angel. 

The sun hovers in the middle of sky now, it glitters brightly on the fresh, newly fallen snow. Like my skin, every crystal of frozen moisture sparkles under the rays white. Everything but the crisp green and brown of the pines is a breath taking white except the sky, which is white, with a blue tint to it. There are few tracks in the thin layer of untouched snow.

Asher is sitting in one of the tall pines, by the look in his eyes I would say he is on the receiving end of some good quality inspiration. Seth is sneaking up on Asher, most likely trying to dump a ridiculous amount of snow on him. Riley, who has obviously never seen snow before is rolling around in it. I see him shove a fist full of snow into his mouth when he thinks I'm not looking. Aubrey just stands off to the side, in the distance, with his hands in the pockets of his black windbreaker.

I appear next to him and look in the direction he is facing, trying to figure out what he's staring at so intently. It all looks like the same patch of white and green forest to me. His brows are together, mouth pulled down at the corners; he is perfectly still aside from the movement of his onyx eyes. They flicker over to me for a split second and then away before he starts talking.

"Before we meet up with Rick and the others we need to feed. We can't be murdering the people who work for us." He smirks slightly; I can accurately guess which irritating employees he would like to have 'fired'. The icy breeze ruffles his raven locks and his eyes light up. "Oh and we'll need to by jackets and things suitable for the weather before we meet with them, lest they get suspicious." He grins looking over my purple tank top and loose jeans that cut off at the knees.

I laugh and look back to see Riley rolling around in the snow with his shorts and muscle shirt, glittering like a six foot four inch diamond. Aubrey laughs quietly beside me.

A few minutes of rare silence envelope the five of us until Seth fulfills his mission. What looks like a hundred pounds of snow rain down on Asher like a miniature avalanche, the tree bends and snaps under the weight. Asher appears next to Seth who is doubled over in mirth and unaware of the murderous intent rolling off Asher in waves. I can feel the tsunami where I stand, almost one hundred yards away, Aubrey sighs. The thunderous roar that exits Asher's mouth shatters his moment of heavenly silence.

If not for me, Aubrey would have ditched this team of Testosterone induced idiocy long ago. I am the baby sister that keeps this unrelated family together. Everyone would have a place to go, another coven to live with if this group ever disbanded, but Aubrey and me. They know I do not want them to leave me and I know they don't want to leave me, so we stick together.

With out warning Seth crashes into Aubrey and sends the both of them whistling into the air smashing through trees, until they bash through their fifth tree and stop abruptly. The only thing I have ever truly feared with every fiber of my being, in all of my damned existence is Aubrey's wrath. He never angers easily, but when he does it's always just built up aggravation spills over and he forgets his self-control. I've only seen him completely looses it. Sensing the onslaught to come I shrink down to the snow and grip my legs, eyes wide with anticipation.

I'm too wrapped in my fear to notice Riley and Asher next to me until one of them curses under their breath, "Oh _fuck."_

As far away as he is, I can still see Aubrey rise slowly; the tree he collided with groans and slowly falls forward with a long loud crack that echoes through the forest. He's trembling slightly, and but stays in his place, Seth still sprawled out on the ground looks horrified, and stays stock still. Besides the noise of the tree breaking in half, we are silent waiting for the explosion, waiting for Aubrey's reaction.

The tree is falling now, and just when I fear he might let it fall on him, Aubrey twists slightly and punches the length of the wood so hard it too splits in half. The top half still partly connected to the trunk of the tree disconnects on impact and speeds through the air like a bullet deep into the trees. The bottom half spins out toward him, he grabs one end and throws it with a snarl into the forest. Some seconds later, I hear a boom, most likely the top and bottom halves colliding together with another innocent tree.

I hear him take a deep breath, his eyes set on me while he speaks to everyone else, "Act. Your. Age." Simple words emphasized by concealed fury that is heard behind the words. His says these things slowly, making sure we all hear them perfectly. Then he walks, leaving Seth frozen in his wake. Past us and past countless trees until her reaches the bus, opens the door stiffly and slams it behind him.

Asher swallows hard and collapses into the snow next to me. Fifty yards away Seth is still stiff refusing to move until made to do so by the only person in the world he would never dare defy. Of the five of us, Aubrey is the strongest, fastest, and wisest, if one day he spontaneously snapped we wouldn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of surviving.

"Hey there." I barely register someone talking to me, and then someone is in my face. I recognize him; it is the odd purple hue of his black hair that pulls me back to reality. "Yo! Is anyone home?" Riley whispers with forced humor.

His voice is shaky, so he _is_ as scared as I am of Aubrey. He smiles slightly, and his brow creases worriedly, "You don't have to worry like the rest of us! Aubrey would never hurt you." His words sink in slowly but I still don't move form my curled up position. He keeps on, "Besides, he wasn't even mad at you to begin with." That helps a lot partnered with his reassuring tone. "There is nothing to fear." The last lie helps even more when I force my eyes shut and make myself believe it.

I take a deep shaky breath and attempt to stand Riley pulls me. He smiles weakly, I try to smile but I don't think it comes out right. I look over and see Seth lying still in the snow. I break away from Riley's grasp and slowly approach Seth.

His deep crimson eyes roll slowly over to my form, as I fall slowly to my knees by his side. He turns his head slowly to face me and one side of his mouth pulls up crookedly. He says in his deep ridiculous voice, "I'm invincible," He starts out slowly. "I was so _sure_ he was going to kill me. I knew I was over. You should have seen the wild look in his eyes. Almost as if he was excited or…something." He gets up slowly and walks in a daze in the general direction of the bus.

The silence Aubrey enjoys so much is suffocating, not that I have to breathe, but the tension that hangs so thickly tangible in the air is killing me. I watch him from the back of the bus. From where I am sitting at the small booth, I can see his shoulder and neck, muscles relaxed, and the side of his head, which is nodding slightly to the steady beat of the music that is only background noise to me.

We drive like this for a while, until afternoon gives way to dusk, the night's darkness is greatly welcomed. If we cannot see each other's facial expressions, we can't worry about each other so much, or our psychotic friend. I don't realize the bus had stopped until Aubrey himself sits across from me at the table, when he opens his mouth to say something I flinch. My chin had been resting in my hand, fingernails digging into my skin.

He pauses, analyzing my reaction to him. He leans foreword and rests his elbows on the chipped granite, fingers laced in front of his face. His voice is low when he does talk, "Asher, put gas in the bus." Calm, slightly cold and of course full of authority. It sounds slightly off probably because he is still saying his words slow, he hates to repeat himself.

Asher disappears behinds the door, with out complaint.

Aubrey continues to stare at me, trying to figure out what I'm thinking from my expression. I keep my face blank, but then I let fake curiosity break the surface I raise an eyebrow. "What?" Innocent, as if I don't know he's afraid that I might still be worried he's going to kill me. He reaches slowly across the table, and wraps his cool hand lightly around the wrist that lays limp on table.

The cool, laid back look sinks slowly into his eyes, and when he speaks, his voice is normal, not powerful, not menacing, not anything I ever feared it's just Aubrey. "Like I said before, we should probably feed and acquire some clothing appropriate for the weather." He doesn't look at me anymore, some small part of me thinks that maybe he is feeling bad for coming so close to loosing it in the woods.

"You know I don't-"

"Let's go." He cuts me off, his voice is loud again, "Go change and we'll leave." He smiles slightly and ghosts to the door.

I change into jeans and a navy turtleneck, on the way out, I grab my black jacket, its light but I suppose it will do. Once he sees me, he smiles lightly and we begin to walk in the direction of the lights and sound of a busy city.

We walk around for about twenty minutes looking in the glowing windows filled with various items, none of which we are looking for. We pass a candle shop, a candy store and a shoe warehouse before stumbling upon a small boutique that sports furry, high-heeled boots, perfumes, sparkly dog collars and mannequins with the latest fashions hanging off their plaster bodies.

I enter with Aubrey in toe. Slowly I look over the racks, occasionally taking items off the rack to compare them with my body in the glass that covers three of the four walls. Thirty minutes goes by and I remember why I hate shopping so much. I've grazed over every rack, every shelf and yet I have nothing I intend on buying.

I look at Aubrey apologetically, but gape at him in awe. Folded over his arm is possibly every other article of clothing I picked up in the entire shop. Surprisingly I don't care what they look like at the moment, I just want to get out of here. Claustrophobia is starting to set in, and my impatience peeks. I walk swiftly to the cashier.

The unnatural blond behind the glass counter looked tired until she looks into my smile, her expression turned critical, like a collector observing a painting. Then her eyes flit to Aubrey and her face falls, I can tell she's thinking we're together, and by the droopy expression on her face she must have realized she could never compete against someone like me.

She hands us our bags, and tells us to come again. Aubrey says "Of course" and she is hopelessly lost to the ruby black depths of his eyes, that is, until he looks away and she is left unsatisfied and forlorn.

"Surly you would like to look around more?" He says when I head in the direction of the parking lot.

"Aubrey," I say shocked, "You know I don't shop, why would you put me in that situation?" He laughs quietly, and fallows me to the bus. Seth and Riley are playing a card game at the table and tense when they hear us coming. I see them visibly relax at the peaceful expression on my face. The air looses it electric intensity quickly, I can sense every thing returning to normal.

Tomorrow we will meet with Rick and our manager; we will start blending my new lyrics with Asher's new sound and make our next single. When I walk out of the room and see Aubrey laughing next to Seth, it confirms my belief. Yes, I can almost smell the change in the air.

* * *

Please review. 


	4. Silver

_Before the Grey:_

* * *

_**Chapter 4: **_

**The Silver**

****

* * *

The new studio is very comfortable and warm, made mostly of smooth honey and cherry colored wood, dark stone frames the large fireplace, the windows and door that lead to outside. When we first step into the house, a large stone entryway gives out to wood floors that span across the large living room. The grand stair way is in the middle of the room, the stairs are of stone and the gleaming banister hovers above pillars of wood and flares out above the large landing stair.

On the right side of the stairs is the big fireplace with a long plush black sofa, and two loveseats a deep tan positioned closer to the fire. In the middle of the ring of couches is a wide, rectangular coffee table of dark wood. Beneath the furniture in this room is a square rug that covers almost the entire wood floor of the room. It is several inches thick and flaunts wide black and tan lines that swirl in and out of a circle.

There are windows beside the fireplace that are tall enough to reach the high beams of the ceiling. On the wall that runs parallel to the grand staircase and next to the door is a wall of glass, cut in to squares by dark wood that runs vertically and horizontally through out.

Above the fireplace is a large painting of what looks like English settlers meeting the Native Americans for the first time. Aubrey raises a brow at this one; the pilgrims met the Indians on the east cost, not in Alaska. Therefore, why they would have a painting displayed here is an oddity.

The other side of the staircase is graced with a grand piano, perched on a raised stone platform. It is black, and I can barely spot an array of other black instruments lined against the walls, in the dim light. The chandelier hung low, above the piano, not radiating any light.

I can hear footsteps from high above; Asher closes the door loudly, to alert everyone of our arrival. Their hearing and sense of smell aren't nearly as strong as ours are. We wait in the doorway, staring at the furniture until finally someone comes to the top of stairs. His hair is shaved close to his head, and he had grown a go-tee but I can still recognize Rick by his smell. I act professional.

"Excuse me; we're looking for a Rick Hudson?" The boys behind me catch on to my little act and play it up with curious stares. Rick laughs heartily and walks slowly down the stairs. "I am he." He says, I walk closer to the stairway and act confused. He finally reaches the stone elegant landing and says, "So you don't recognize me Bella?" I wait a minute and then let false recognition light up in my eyes.

"Oh!" I laugh, "I feel like an idiot!" He laughs some more, I can hear someone behind me shift their weight impatiently. He looks behind me and says, "So how was the trip up?" He sounds curious as if he can't tell by our body language that we were bored and want to hurry and start on our music.

"It was fine, a little uneventful but it was peaceful. Well most of the way." Aubrey catches himself smoothly on the last part, about their not being any events. Actually that is a flat lie, there were many. I remember one between Seth and me, one between Seth and Asher, now that I think back on it Seth was in quite a lot of squeamishness through out our two-week journey, not to mention yesterday when Aubrey almost massacred us all.

I can taste the sudden the sudden uneasiness in the air; apparently, no one has forgotten our little brush with death. Aubrey looks relaxed enough, his hands rest deep in his pockets, expression at ease. Rick looks confused, he most have seen the way Seth closed his eyes and shuddered at the memory of Aubrey angry.

He shakes his head and rubs his hands together, "So have we got anything new?" He looks expectantly at us.

"Actually yes," I say with a smile, grateful at the change in subject. I take out my small black notebook, open it to the correct page and hand it to him. He skims over it and smiles.

"It just keeps getting better!" He praises me.

"And to top it, Asher has some new tunes to mix in." I say proudly. Rick's eyes light even brighter at the fact.

"Perfect. Now I'll show you all your rooms, you get some rest and tomorrow we can get to work." He rubs his hands together again, his eye roam over all of our stances.

"Here Bella let me take that for you." He takes the bag and I am sorely tempted to laugh. I am a hundred time stronger, a thousand times quicker then him and he's worried.

We all head up the stairs at an extremely slow, human pace, only to turn and walk up another flight of stairs. Finally, we reach the top and fallow Rick down the hall. I'm terribly afraid we might have to walk up the stairs again, when we turn the corner. Then he stops abruptly, as he suddenly remembers something.

"Oh, Asher, that's your room," He says pointing across the hall at tall wooden door painted a light brown, with and elegant golden handle. "Aubrey," He points to an identical door next to Asher's. "Bella," Next to Aubrey's, "Riley, and then Seth." We all head to our designated doors and open them.

In mine there is a king sized bed with a lacy white comforter, with many baby blue pillows overstuffed, that takes up most of the space in the room. The walls are painted a shade slightly lighter than the pillows, with a refined pattern of arches painted in a soft eggshell white. The headboard, hard floor and small tables on either side of the big bed are the same cherry hue of the down stairs floors. I gaped; it looks like winter, captured in square room.

Above the night tables are windows that let in the dim light of the fading sunset, with lacy ivory curtains to match the bed sheets. Taking a half step inside I see a large, old-fashioned wardrobe on the same wall as the door. It is tall; the top half is two long doors that open up to reveal a silver bar and hangers waiting for my clothes. The bottom half is two drawers, deep and look like they alone can hold my entire wardrobe.

I close the door and speed through the unpacking process. Counting the clothes Aubrey bought me last night, I easily fill the large wardrobe and in a matter of ten minutes, I am done. Well that's a new record, I think sarcastically to myself. There's a knock at the door, I appear next to it and open it before the person is finished knocking.

The short man standing in front of me flinches, oops. "Sorry." I apologize, he shakes his head to clear it, an odd look coming into his eye, and I smile.

"Um, if you'd like something to eat, come down to the kitchen." He says slowly, probably trying to make sure he didn't stumble over his words.

"Alright." I say simply. When I close the door, I'm grinning, you could say I am quite _hungry, _and I could most defiantly find something to eat around the house. I laugh. The door opens; I turn to see Aubrey standing in the doorway, Riley and Asher behind him. "Let's get something to eat." There's a smirk on his face.

The air is still outside the enormous house, not a wind not even a soft breeze. It's odd and quickly puts me on edge. Seth had left earlier to hunt; his will power was never enough to keep him from doing something he'd regret. He has little to no self-control. It is a miracle he's never killed anyone in our management, or in broad day light for the whole world to see.

We all climb into an old black car that Rick has lent to us for our stay in this city. I sit in the back next to Riley and stare out of the window while Aubrey speeds out of the countryside and in to the city. Lights blur past, scents of a million different things hit me through the window that is now rolled down despite the icy air. He stops the car on the side of the road, and we all get out, we make plans to meet back up in an hour and go off in separate directions.

I run for a long time until the wind picks up and I stop to smell the air. I can see their tracks in the snow, four maybe five and an animal. I fallow the scent until I am close enough to hear their breath. I jump to a tree branch just above them and count, there are five, and the animal that made the strange prints looks like a Husky, or a very small wolf.

I can tell they are lost by the way they keep changing direction and the fact that they are arguing with each other whether or not they are walking in circles. The dog hears me, before he smells me, he growls ferociously, whipping his head from side to side, looking for me. The men stop arguing and look at their dog, I wonder why they would not have gone home earlier, it's dangerous to be in the woods at night. The number of people you are with is irrelevant when it comes to the predators of the night.

Saliva drips from between his teeth and falls to the icy earth, as he bares his sharp teeth in a viscous snarl. He barks, probably trying to egg me on, telling me to come out from where I am hiding. The red-brown color of his fur is familiar, like a memory of something that happened to me a long time ago but I cannot remember. It's a nagging feeling, very irritating, and now I'm feeling frustrated that I cannot remember. The loud sound this dog is making does _not_ make my mood any better, the opposite actually and I really want to make him be quite.

After a minute of silence, one of them suggests splitting up, they agree and the smile that surfaces on my face is relieved that the man with the dog walks in a new direction. They're the lucky ones; they are traveling in the right direction. The two men keep walking into the forest after a long moment of reluctance, staring at the backs of their friends, it will be the last time they see a familiar face. Great, now I feel guilty. I think to myself that is inevitable, if it isn't them it will be just another innocent. At least they look middle aged, they have gotten a chance to live, unlike that masochistic girl who begged me to kill her, and she was so young. My last thoughts console me.

They're about a quarter of mile from the point they split up before I jump down from my hiding spot. One of the two has gone to take a bathroom break, the other is alone twitting his thumbs. I'd planed to sneak up on him, to save him the fear, just get it over with. Suddenly he turns sharply and looks up startled at me I am equally as startled. This is something I did not plan, now he will have to live in fear the last seconds of his life.

Before he can cry out and alert his friend I am behind him, hand sealed tightly over his mouth, and I stand on my very tiptoes to put my mouth just above his vein. He gasps, and tenses to turn around. I don't move a muscle, I don't have to, I keep him facing away from me. It's enough that I have to kill the to saturate my thirst, looking at him while I do… It would kill me.

My fangs puncture his skin with the littlest applied pressure. The flow of blood catches and I can feel the microscopic blood sells clotting hopelessly around my teeth as his blood catches and reverse its current to the heart. He starts to gasp for air, but it is useless, oxygen cannot be carried where need be if there is nothing to carry it there. After a short while, he falls limp having fainted from lack of oxygen.

I am in the last stage of feeding when his friend returns from the woods and stops short, having seen us. With one swallow it is finished, his pulse stilled itself long ago. I lay the man carefully on the ground and lick the blood from my lips, my back to the horrified human. I turn to him but stop and smell the air. A heavy scent rides the light breeze. It is sweet but not one I recognize, it smells of human blood. Someone- or _something_- must have gotten to the other group of lost hunters.

It isn't anyone I know, but I can tell by the strength of the scent that they are coming closer. I look back at the man, standing still, trying not to breathe loudly lest he attract attention to himself. I weigh my options, but in the end, it still does not look good for the unfortunate man.

I appear beside him in half a second. I take him quickly before the others can show up. I put the two next to each other and bring out a small bottle from my back pocket. I untwist the cap and poor the contents on the bodies, soaking them. When the liquid runs dry I lay it underneath the fluffy coat of the first man to die, I get out a small square from my jacket pocket and take out the small stick of wood. I slide the match roughly against the rough surface of the side of the matchbox and it lights.

I stair at the flame for a second and let my emotions break the surface, my emotionless mask that I've warn crumbles. Tearless sobs rip themselves from my hard, cold chest and tumble off my lips in quick succession.

In this moment I loath myself more than anything else, I recognize that it is my fault. Every mistake I've ever made was the product of some stupid decision that I made. It is as simple as that. It is my fault, and no one else's.

And after the second has passed, so has my moment of emotional instability. I thrust the burning match on to the bodies doused with the ghastly smelling, flammable liquid. It catches fire within a second and flames leap up close to my body.

Deliberately, I stand too close to the fire, half-hopping it will lick the fabric of my jacket, and half-hopping the ones I smelled from earlier come and stop me from jumping the bowl of fire, in my heavy moment of depression.

Involuntarily I take a quick step back when the tongues of fire branch out, looking for something else to feed upon. I hear footsteps crunching slowly in the snow behind me. I turn slowly to see a tall man with honey blonde hair, and coal black eyes step out of the shade of a tree branch. Only, he isn't a man, he is a vampire.

He looks down at my burning companions and narrows his eyes. From behind him another, taller blonde steps into the moon light, I can tell he can see my fire, but he ignores it. He walks foreword a few steps and smiles softly.

"Hello, I am Carlisle," He says, "And this is my son, Jasper."

* * *

I'm sad to say that I will most likely not be updating for a few days, I'll be busy with school for at least three days. Also, I'm not sure of the geography of Denali, I don't know for sure if it's a city or has a city near it or what ever, so please forgive me if I have made a mistake, if you have any info on it please feel free to tell me about it, via a review or a private message. Bye! 


	5. Ring of Gold

_Before the Grey:_

* * *

_**Chapter 5: **_

**Ring of Gold**

* * *

For a long moment, all I hear is the howl of the wind picking up and the crackling of the fire devouring the remains of my meal. This man, Carlisle, waits for my reply tensely. Something about him causes a strong feeling to rise up in my gut. I _have_ seen him from some where before, I know it. There is no reasonable explanation for the sense of familiarity that I feel when I look into his eyes. 

The person behind him is some one I once knew as well, I know him, but I just _cannot_ remember, the frustrated feeling is back and my voice sounds irritated when I reply, "My name is Isabella Swan." At first, I expect surprise to light in there eyes and run at me screaming for an autograph. Then I remind myself these were vampires, the only time they would run screaming at me is if they wanted a fight. Still, his eyebrows raise and a look of surprise washes over them both. The one called Jasper takes a quick step back and stops breathing.

Out of the forest a boom, that is so loud it leaves my ears ringing, I can tell it can't be a noise made any humans. From nowhere a large body crashes through a tree branch and falls in the space in front of me. I jump back to avoid being hit, but I have forgotten the fire behind me. Sharp blow to my back sends my flying in to the strangers that came from the dark of the forest. I can't tell which one of them caught me; my face was buried in their chest on impact. Until he sets me down. It was the first one I had seen, Jasper.

But, he isn't looking at me, his face is twisted into a grimace, his lips baring his glistening teeth. I follow the direction of his gaze and see Seth standing in the clearing grinning, he ducks away from a brawny, curly brown haired vampire I haven't seen before, but he could be Seth's older brother. With out making a sound Aubrey is next to me.

He grabs me under my arms like I am a child, and jerks me foreword while swinging his foot in a wild, furious, arc slamming into the unsuspecting chest of the stranger. Not a second to impact, he brings his forearms up to block Aubrey's powerful kick. Jasper turns his wrist and grabs Aubrey's ankle, pulling him off the ground and swinging. When he lets go, I squeeze me eyes closed and latch my fingers on to Aubrey's forearms as we soar through the air.

I am still unused to fighting out side of playing. I've never been in a serious fight nor have I had the desire to engage in one. I don't know what to do, but I trust Aubrey to keep me safe more then anything. So I cling to him as if my life depended on it, because right now, it very well might.

Aubrey lands lightly on his feet, and lowers himself, I feel for the ground but I can't find it. I open my eyes and see that he wasn't trying to put me on my feet. He is bent over, snarling wickedly. His face looks like he's smiling while baring his teeth, trying to goad Jasper into fighting him. I see Jasper lower himself into a fighting stance. A web of fear laces around my heart and squeezes painfully, my grip on Aubrey tightens, his eyes flicker to my face for a split second then back at his opponent.

His eyes are so irrationally alight it instills a fear that is far deeper, than the fear of loosing my life in a battle. It is painful, like sand paper on raw flesh. The look in his eyes says he _wants_ to fight this man whom I've just met. He's itching to kill something, let loose and hurt.

I _can't_ let him do that.

I don't know why, there is no reason for my sudden frenzied worry, it confuses and frustrates me, and all these emotions on top of the crippling fear of the fight is very dangerous, there is nowhere to go but up. That's exactly where they are going and soon I will no longer be in my control, I will act on what I am feeling and probably get myself killed by these strangers.

A snarl blooms deep in his chest, and it shakes me as it rises up until it reaches his throat and tumbles off his lips. It ripples in the air and floats until it is shattered by the growl that echoes back. A wordless language, they speak to each other in this way.

I can feel Aubrey tense and fall back, readying himself for the attack. Ready to launch and kill, and tear to shreds the thick skin of his opponent. I dig my nails into his skin through his jacket and his shirt. He is in mid step when I act involuntarily.

"_**NO!**_"

My scream is louder than I would have expected and it is a strange sound. As if someone had wound their hands around my neck and clenched their fingers together until I could not speak, but I was trying to call out anyway. It sounded desperate and in the very pit of despair. I wasn't the only one surprised by it. Beneath my hands, I can feel Aubrey flinch, violently.

He shakes once, as if I slapped him. I realize my eyes are close, and I open them. I see him staring at me with wide eyes, the intense need, the wild animalistic hunger gone, replaced by worry, and fear. The electric pulse in the air stops. For a moment. And then it starts, again.

Jasper throws himself at Aubrey like lightening striking, you see it then it is gone. A hand grabs me and throws me off him and I hit the ground, grasping for something to hang on to. I feel as though the world is going to turn upside down and I need to keep my hold on the ground. I realize my eyes closed again; I open them but can't make myself look up to see who has the upper hand in the fight. Dread settles in the pit of my stomach, heavy and roots me to my sprawled position.

My hands tremble through the snow looking for grass or soil anything solid. I force my small fingers into the frozen dirt. I hear loud noises behind me, crashes above me. Vaguely, I realize that there are two fights, one sounds close around and another more reckless, interaction several feet away. Once again, I do what I always do, I stay still. I tremble and hope, wish and will it all to end, because I know no other way.

There is another boom, I feel that I really should try to tell them to stop but I can't, I'm paralyzed. It stops. I hear no growl, no hits, no bodies falling to the ground. The silence is deafening.

A hand lays itself lightly on my back and it comforts me. I blink after a while, pull myself up into a sitting position, and look around. Jasper is staring at me with a confused expression and Aubrey is glaring darkly at Jasper. I look to my side and see the other stranger that I used to know, Carlisle, his pale blond hair shimmering in the moonlight, is the only one that still looks like an angel. The angel, no, the God of peace and all good things.

He pats my back to bring back to bring me into the present, out of my thoughts. Aubrey looks down at his hands he looks back at me. I can see the shame clouding his eyes. I shake my head and remember something. My head snaps back up and I sweep the forest for the ones I am looking for. I see them, playfully punching each other in the arms and slapping each other around.

The tall vampire next to Seth has curly brown hair and muscles that wrap around and overlap his body, enlarging it. He looks like one of those people who lift weights for a living, gaining seriously intimidating brawn. His wide grin and happy eyes look so similar to my almost-brother's its scary. He turns and sees me staring at him, his grin widens.

He walks over and kneels in front of me; I have to look up high to see him. "Hey, you know you kind of look like some one I used to know." He cocks his head to the side a little, I feel shy, like a little kid, _again._

"Um, I'm Bella." His face lights up, humor dances in his eyes, glittery gold.

"Bella?! I'm Emmett! Don't you remember me?" He grabs my shoulders and shakes me lightly. When I put my hands on his and remove them from my shoulders, he jerks back.

"Sorry," I say completely disregarding the fact that he looks very familiar and I have grown fond of him in the short while I have seen him. He looks confused, then solemn. "I don't remember." I say this in spite of the fact that I _do_ remember him, well, almost remember him.

His face falls at my reply. My heart hurts at the sight of his sadness. He looked so happy, who am I to take his happiness away. My lips part before I can stop them, and the words are out before I can regret them. "_But_, you _do_ look like someone I've seen before." I say so slowly, and unsure, but his smile is satisfied.

"I knew you could never forget me Bella!" He ruffles my hair with his big fist, I smile, confused. Carlisle's eyes are warm and golden. I don't understand how a vague sense of familiarity could bring on such strong emotions.

Jasper breaths out loudly, from the corner of my vision I could swear he was glaring at me. Aubrey turns and glares at Jasper, I glare at Aubrey. I got sick of the violence and blind animosity long ago.

"Please," I say softly, "Please don't fight." I say a little louder than necessary at the end, to enforce my point. Carlisle nods his head, as if he approves of my demand. He probably does, I didn't see him jump in and start throwing punches. It wouldn't suit him anyway.

The mood noticeably lightens, it probably has something to do with the glistening yellow-white that peaks over the jagged edge where sky the sky meets the mountain. The yellow lifts higher into the sky as an orange, the first curve of the ball of fire appears.

Seth and Emmett, who must have recently noticed the small fire, drop huge piles of snow over the top and pack it down. By the next snowfall, the pile couldn't be differentiated from the rest of the white landscape. A single snowflake falls and lands softly on the back of my hand. I look up the clouds are wispy and they aren't very dark, guess we're out of luck.

Carlisle stands and pulls me up with him. I smooth out my jeans and brush the snow off my jacket. Aubrey walks toward Seth and me and, like the leader he is, starts to talk, "I apologize for starting a fight with out getting the facts. I hope you don't take offense." His voice is very formal. I've known him long enough to know that he only uses that voice when he is hiding something.

"No none taken." Carlisle puts up his hands and smiles, "We have a few other family members and a permanent settlement a few miles off if you would like to visit." Aubrey raises his eyebrows.

"A permanent settlement? How do you manage that, with the small population of this city?" Aubrey says.

"We don't feed on humans." Confusion that I felt every time someone spoke was really starting to get annoying. Seth laughs aloud and I raise an eyebrow myself.

"We use the wild life to our advantage, but we keep it light. We don't want to endanger any species." It was unbelievable, I had never thought of something like it before. It sounded disgusting; I wondered how they could keep up something like that.

"We?"

"My wife Esme and daughter Rosalie are home at the moment." Carlisle answered. The names struck a cord in me, more recognition curling in my stomach, but the relevancy could not reach my memory.

"If you'd like to visit, you are welcome any time."

"We'd better get going. We interact with humans regularly, through our band 'Eclipse'. You see we pretend to be human for them." Aubrey briefly explained our relations. They exchange handshakes and turn to leave. I waved at Emmett and smiled at Jasper before turning away and fallowing Seth out of the forest.

When we got to the car Riley and Asher look annoyed. That annoyance only worsens once Seth describes the fight to them. The love of the fight must have been one trait I didn't receive when I was changed.

The clock on the dashboard says it's 3:00 am, and when we enter the house, all the humans are sleeping, except the occasional bathroom visitor or early morning snacker. The curtains in my room are still untouched; the light that floods in makes the room bright. It reminds me of those old movies where the kids wake up on Christmas morning to a bright landscape of snow.

Before, I couldn't notice the glittery silver doorknobs of the wardrobe because of the dimness of the sunset. For the first time I see the crisp, clean look of the room. It was very homey, for a hotel room. I lay back on the bed with my hands tucked beneath my head. There is a knock at my door, and then it opens. Aubrey steps foreword after a second of hesitation in my doorway.

He closes the door and leans heavily against it. "Are you okay?" He says quickly, almost too quickly for me to catch. I nod, worried, I've never seen him like this. So defenseless, so vulnerable. "Are you?" I say. He ignores my questions.

"Back there, when I saw the expression on you face…The look in you eyes….You were so…" He shakes his head, as he unsuccessful tries to explain to me what is wrong. I sit up and slide off the bed; I stand in front of him. His tortured expression and his troubled eyes search my face, possibly for the answer he can't think of himself, or perhaps some sign of understanding.

He puts both of his hands on each side of my face, his brows have pulled upward, and he looks like he is going to break down. Unstable or maybe already falling. He brings me toward him and wraps his arm around the small of my back and the other crushes me to him by my shoulders. His chin rests on my shoulder, and he shakes, shaking me. If we were human, I would know he was crying by the wet that would be dampening my shirt right now.

But we aren't and he can't cry tears though that doesn't mean he can't cry. I can't move I can't think. Until he grows still and speaks again in an agonized voiced, I strain to hear him. "It felt so good. To just lose myself in the fight, I wanted to. I wanted to kill him when I thought he was going to hurt you. But…But then I saw you. I held you there in the middle of it all. I saw your face. I saw myself in your eyes." He broke off, pulling me impossibly close to him. I pull my arms up to rest weakly on his chest and rest my head on his shoulder. I am prepared to wait it out, let him spill his conscience all over me and help him clean himself up.

"I am a monster." He whispers.


	6. Red

_Before the Grey: _

* * *

_**Chapter 6:**_

_**Red**_

* * *

His fingers expertly maneuver the strings, holding them close the wood while his other hand moves back and forth, up and down. The music pours from his guitar on to the ground, evaporating into the air, filling the room. I listened, sitting on the edge of the table, with my arms crossed over my chest. When the pick in his hands ceases its movement I clap, a smile on my face. His nervousness lifts and he seems pleased by my reaction.

Riley and Seth hoot and make barking noises. Aubrey shakes his head eyes closed half-smiling; Rick claps in the background of all our noise. After awhile of joking and laughing we decide to test the song with my lyrics.

The song starts out fast and after the second time the long set of notes is repeated; I start to place the words with the melody. I sing the whole song out with out stopping to let the guitar play as it does in some of our faster songs. After the last of the notes tremble off the strings there is silence while everyone thinks. They make suggestions and we start again.

This time we play sections of the songs, start in the beginning and rehearse that part over and over searching for the perfect way to start out. Then we work on the choruses and the ending, which is abrupt. After about three hours of working on the song, Rick suggests going out for dinner, in celebration for our new song.

I start to disagree but then Aubrey shrugs and agrees I give him a look. It's questioning, I silently ask him if that is really a good idea. The straight line of his lips tells me he's not so sure but it would probably be nice to clear up the whole eating suspicion.

I agree as well, Riley looks at me, but I get off the table and hold the door for Rick. The move pretty much ends the conversation; we are all going to dinner together. With Rick. Sigh.

Because of lack of room in any other car, we are forced to take a Hummer. It is painted in a pretty forest green, with dark tinted windows and a large silver grill in the front. The seats are black leather and everything is the deep green, the black or the shiny silver. I like it, the color combination suits my mood, not pessimistic really, but not optimistic either, a little between and somewhat mysterious.

A massive sign illuminates the colossal parking lot of the building which is chockfull of cars; in cursive letters, it says _La Bella Italia. _I'm to wrapped up in the nostalgic feeling I get after reading the sign, to acknowledge the person who makes a comment about the name of the restaurant and my always-used nickname.

I walk in a daze sit in the big, maroon both without really seeing it. I stare at the menu without reading it, or thinking about how I'm going to 'eat' my food with out really eating it. I slowly come out of it as the waiter sets down a large glass of what looks to be some kind of alcoholic beverage on the coaster in front of me.

I start to protest but someone from across the table nudges me in the shin with their boot and I shut up. Aubrey smirks at me from across the table and lifts his glass to his lips slowly. His eyes rest on me over the rim of his glass, while he drinks.

* * *

She is smiling.

She does that often but this time she isn't faking it. Of all her interesting reactions, her confusion was probably the most alluring expression her innocence can manage.

More than her voice, more than her lips and her smile, I found her eyes to be the most fascinating of all of her. They were the first part I want to look at when she enters the room. I find that mine were drawn to hers, seeking them out. Searching them for emotion was always top priority.

_What was she feeling, how intense was she feeling it?_

After a while of staying with her, I was surprised to see that I'd made it my mission to analyze the tenor of feeling that was always clouding her eyes. Some sick part of me that has always been there, but never revealed itself until recently, loves the fear. The panic that swells in her always dark, deep vermillion irises is intoxicating.

Her eyebrows pull up, her lips part and shake slightly. Coal lashes line her lids and compliment the ivory that surrounds the windows to her soul. A window that is perfectly transparent to me.

Some lurid, dark part of me loves it when the phobia of danger, the danger that I bring, pours from her soul.

I love it _like blood_.

_I love it._

Her heart, her soul is punctured and the emotion streams through the windows, the scent of it breaks out, blasts into the air and invades my nose. I smell it I can taste it. I'm so close I can taste it. I close my eyes and I can imagine it rolling over my tongue burning into my senses, filling me. The pressure to _have_ it is building, the tension becoming physically painful with every passing moment that I waste denying what I want more than anything I've ever desired.

_Bella_

I shudder as the scent of the feeling laps up against my skin and it wafts over, teasing. It is sin's reincarnate. I tense, it hurts, everything hurts I _have _to have it. I've lived a long time, I've experienced and possibly seen everything there is to see. Everything _but_ give into myself my true self, the shadow that is always there with me, the one that ghosts along beside me.

Every step I take, every move, every touch and thought and every causeless breath makes it harder to avoid. I am strong in the ways of self-control, but I am no God, I cannot refuse myself for the eternity in which I am damned. I do not have an infinite amount of patience. I can't just sit back and wait for this want, this need to simply go away.

Even now, as she sits across the table from me, swirling her straw in her wine, the desire is strong. But, for now, for as long as she isn't frantic with fear, I am content with observing. I am aware of the hand that cups her neck under her silk hair that is unique in its brown and red mixture, and descends so far past her shoulders. I acknowledge the elbow of her arm, sheathed in the black cotton of her shirt, placed so rudely on the table. Her lips are arched up, the remnants of a wicked smile.

The smile she smiles every time Seth tells dirty jokes, or when she counters his insults with one of her own. It's a brand of smile so like the one she wears when she knows something we don't and she flaunts it to annoy us. Like when she has figured out what we're thinking and she knows we'd rather she didn't know. It's the same as when she finds that her efforts weren't in vain.

My eyes glide down to the flat color of my drink, just seconds before hers lift to my face. I've learned to anticipate her swift glances, I can tell she going to look up at me when she stops moving her straw. She focuses on her hand for a short while before she decides to find out whether I'm staring at her.

I look up slowly and watch her avert her gaze, not wanting to be caught staring herself. She nervously taps her glass, and chews her lip.

Asher flicks Bella on the ear, and I watch her turn her gaze, annoyed, to him and narrow her eyes a bit. He asks her what is bothering her, and (I catch the pause, the slight stutter) she says it's nothing. I feel pleased.

I see her fiddle with her fork and napkin and take a bite of her ravioli; she tries to hide the disgust but it stays long enough for me to notice and chuckle quietly to myself. She 'sneezes' into her napkin a couple times, but there is still an uncomfortably large mound of food still on her plate. She looks discouraged, so I suggest that it may be time to leave.

Her face lights up again and she hastily agrees, a misty coolness spreads through my chest. I feel light. We each pay for our meals and head out to the parking lot, it's almost empty and dark.

I get in the drivers seat, and see Bella through the review mirror, looking at me with a puzzled expression. From the very back seat, her pale skin is almost bright in the darkness. It's like that for every one, but Rick, who has the average peachy skin of a human with blood circling in his veins.

I back out of the parking space quickly and straighten out into the main road at a speed nearly double the limit. Rick doesn't seem to notice, he isn't too particularly bright. He isn't observant in the least, he didn't pick up on the signs, like how we all had snowy skin, inhumanly beautiful faces and mysterious behaviors when it came to just about everything.

That's okay, I guess. Nobody these days ever does notice either. Back in the time of my youth, people would have seen us for what we were and would probably try to kill us. The people of today's society are too wrapped up in the drama of their life to notice the simple things. I sigh.

We get home quickly thanks to my driving style, it's almost nine o'clock. I go straight to my room and prepare to wait until all the humans go to sleep to go out. I don't expect some one to knock on my door.

"It's open." I call. It opens slowly, by the scent that drifts in slowly I know it's Bella, I raise an eyebrow as she looks down at her feet a while before clearing her throat.

"I was thinking that maybe we could," Something in me was expectant; I tensed to hear what she was going to say. If I had a heartbeat it would be jack hammering in my chest right now, beating a hundred times a minute. I took a deep breath while she looked reluctantly into my eyes.

"I just wanted to ask if you would go with me to the Cullen's." Of coarse.

I frown unable to hide my disappointment. She notices my negativity and responds. "I know we didn't get a good start last time, but I really feel that if I go visit them and learn more about them I would be able to learn more about who I was as a human." My jaw sets involuntarily and I cross my arms.

"And you think they might know." My voice is low, she reads the anger in it and steps back.

"They seemed to know me and-" she stops abruptly and slows down, "I get this feeling every time... I'm sick of not knowing." Her eyes are on my arms, she must not want to look in my eyes and see the restrained anger there.

"Fine." The words don't surprise me, if anything I hope the Cullen's are just a false lead and we can get on with our lives, or death, however it is perceived. We use the window as our exit, eliminating any questions in the near future. It's a long run in the woods before I catch their scent and we fallow it.

It leads us all through out the woods until we come upon a clearing and see two figures there, waiting. There are three standing there, as if they expected us. The two blondes from the last time are there again, but another is a woman with dark hair that frames a heart shaped face with golden eyes set above her soft cheek bones.

As soon as she sees us, her eyes brighten and she straitens. When Bella steps out of the woods, the woman stands up completely and smiles, I'm guessing that she recognized Bella by the warmth and welcoming in her eyes. She notices me next to Bella and I can see her assuming things already. I'm surprised by the way my thoughts sound bitter in my own head.

The woman takes a step foreword eagerly, "Bella? I'm Esme, do you remember me, Bella?" My shoulders tense, I find myself afraid of Bella's reaction.


	7. Red part 2

_Before the Grey:_

* * *

_**Chapter 7: **_

**Red part 2**

* * *

The house they have taken us to isn't like ours in the least. There are no roaring fireplaces, the house is lacking the olden day charm that ours had been built on. Instead, their home is modern and stylish. There are walls of glass, and some rooms that are decorated in the latest fashions and the hottest colors of the year.

The living room, in which we are currently sitting, has a spotless white carpet, and equally stark white walls. The couch and the coffee table are black, as well as the flat screen T.V. that spreads to cover most of the wall. There is a vase made of broken glass, all shades of crimson. They are placed in layers around the vase from the top, the shades darkened until the very bottom tiles are almost black. A single long stemmed, white rose is placed inside.

On the wall behind the couch, there was red metal frame that forms an intricate design of squares and holds what could be thirty candles. _Enough to burn the house down_, I think to myself. Just the sight of the fire hazard has me squirming in my seat. Aubrey has not taken his eyes off it either; I think he still doesn't trust them.

Jasper who is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest starts to glare at Aubrey. "Trust me, if we wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead." Fear instantly rises from the pit of my stomach, and all I can see in my head is the two of them tearing each other to pieces. Aubrey narrows his eyes and looks like he is about to say something but stops as he sees Esme frown.

Her disapproving eyes look to Jasper and then to me, curious to see my reaction to all of this. I simply fold my hands in my lap and lower my eyes to stare at the ivory in them.

The sliding glass door opens and Carlisle steps over the threshold fallowed by Emmett and a woman with a celestial face to match her lovely figure which is set off by shimmering blonde hair that plummets down her back in soft waves. I felt ugly just looking at her. Her glittery golden eyes swept around the room and landed on me. The expression on her perfect face is so distorted with different emotions, but I still caught the dread and the dull resentment, before she looks away quickly.

They sit next around Esme on the long couch and suddenly I feel like it's us versus them, the way they are positioned and the solemnity on every one's faces is unnerving. The blond I don't know forces a smile on to her sensual lips.

"Bella, this is Rosalie." Carlisle gestures across Esme to said vampire, who takes a breath and starts to say something.

"I saw your music video on the television not a week ago." She pauses, searching for words, "It was powerful, I was very moved." I wonder if her words our as fake as her smile.

"Thank you." Nevertheless I thank her, and for what? I do not remember her, there is no interest pulling at me the way it did with the others. My eyes harden; I do nothing to try to stop it. I suddenly feel tired, exhausted. I don't have the energy to play up an act. I just need to know what I came here to find out, I do _not_ need to make enemies, or _regrets._

"Bella I just want to ask one thing before everything is set in motion," Carlisle sounds frustrated as he says this, the look doesn't suit him. He looks at me as he speaks, "What happened to you? How were you changed?" The casual passing of air through my nose halted and a small strangled sound that originated somewhere in my throat jumped out of my mouth before I could silence it.

Something, _anything_ but that question.

Sure it is always a painful question to ask any of our kind, but for me it is an especially gut wrenching. It isn't the pain of the transformation, the despair of the blood lust I felt when I first awoke, or the pain of being kept from feeding. The person, who changed me, tortured me, played sick games with me and instilled a permanent, irreversible, crippling fear into every fiber of my being. She was the only memory I had worth remembering of anything that ever happened before I met my savior, before Aubrey saved me from my black hole of depression. He gave me life, and that is the only thing I wish to go back to, I do not live in the past as everyone else does. I can't.

Unable to do anything else I fall foreword, my face smothered in my hands. I could not let them see me like this, horrified expression that I knew was burned onto my face from the memory. They are strangers they can hurt me. I shake my head several times, trying to make them stop asking the questions that was repeating like a broken record in my head.

_What happened to you?_

_Why were you changed?_

"No." I can't breathe, though it couldn't make a difference, I can't even force it. My elbows are digging painfully into the flesh just above my knees. It can't make me move, ever since _Victoria_ I have a high tolerance for pain. "Ask. Something. Else." When I could find and successfully use my voice, I demand it. I move my hands upward into my hair and running my fingers through the bone straight strands.

My eyes, still closed, when I sit back on the couch and cross my arms, and cross my left leg up, over my right, there isn't an opening in my stance, I'm trying to protect myself. I keep my eyes closed so I can't see the expressions that I can already see I my mind. The shock, the confusion the s_ympathy. _I don't need to _see _it when I can already feel it radiating off of them all in ridiculous, hideous waves.

I've already been through the whole moping period, wondering why she hated me so much, why I was loathed by the only person I had to live for. She was my blood mother, she made me, but she wanted to destroy me so badly. The only reason she kept me alive was to torture me, she wanted to make me feel pain.

That sucked, I didn't need to be reminded of it by people who had no business knowing the events of my past.

"Please, Bella. It's imperative we know who was responsible." Carlisle pleading voice is soft; he is feeling bad for the pain he knows the question must bring. My eyes snap open. I don't _want _them to keep talking to me like that, looking at me like I'm some poor victim. I deserved the way I was treated. I did.

Vampires aren't petty when it comes to humans. She wouldn't have hated me so deeply if I had done nothing to hurt her first. She didn't single me out randomly. I didn't even stay to fulfill myself through her punishment.

I told them all what I was thinking in an angry voice, quick to the point. I left no doubt in any of there minds that I didn't want to talk about it. And if I don't want to talk about it, then I won't. One after the other their reactions bubble to the surface and pop, dispersing into the air, their expressions are stapled onto their faces and hastily they try to tear –raised eyebrows, wide eyes, dropped jaws- them down, desperate to compose themselves.

Oh, the suffocation is making me _sick_, which is very disturbing considering I don't _need_ to _breathe. _

Beside me, Aubrey's knuckles are alabaster mountains under his stretched skin. His fingers grind together, his back his stiff and muscles are extremely tense, I wonder if it hurts. He stands up rigidly, pulling me up with him; wordlessly I let him pull me through the door, through the woods, through his window into his room. Dazed as I am I notice the blind rage in his eyes.

He lets go of me, I fall heavily on to the burnt-orange colored comforter that is sprinkled with black in the shape of falling leaves. I notice the colors of his room-black, tan, that dark dull orange that I think I love right now- all bring the image of autumn to mind. The walls are a light tan, with dark brown leaves painted perfectly spaced on the walls. The ceiling fan above the bed is a dark wood, but not cherry like mine, the light is some shape I can't make out through the bright florescent lights.

Aubrey sinks to the ground beside the bed with his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped behind his neck. I lay there feeling numb, trying to figure out why I had to leave, why I couldn't get my questions answered, and then I remember when Aubrey stands back up and looks at me. Oh. that's why, I think as I see the dull pain in his obsidian eyes.

He looks away, out the window, into the black blue. I start to get up but then he's there pinning me down, forcing me to look in his eyes. It might as well be physical pain, because right now the hurt I see on his face is just as bad as being ripped to shreds by Victoria. He props himself on his elbows and I pull out of my thoughts long enough to be embarrassed by our position.

However, he can't see the blush on my cheeks because their isn't one. I would have tried to move, make him take the hint, but that would be saying I _didn't_ like his weight pressing down on mine, or the way our legs felt, tangled up like they were. That would be lying, and I am a horrible liar.

"Bella, please, promise me you will never visit them again." His words are pleading, but the pain mixed with blind determination is what catches me. How can I object with the way his eyes burning, liquid onyx bright and trembling the way they are.

"But," It is one word but I can hardly force it out, I am too distracted by his hips, and his broad shoulders and him staring at me, and I'm feeling self conscious. I can't finish. He leans down, I could swear our noses rubbed together for a fractions of a millisecond, or that could be my imagination acting up again. The fact that his hair has fallen into my face and teases my cheeks doesn't exactly help.

I blink, and try to take a deep breath, but then my chest rises, brushing against his and all I can smell is his scent heady and strong. My hands are trembling, I keep my eyes closed as I try to resist, but it's too hard. I'm not very strong, I can't will myself to stop thinking of things that aren't helping my situation any.

"I can't," My voice is shaky and I not sure, if I sound scared or mad. I can feel his lips trail down the side of my face and rest just beside my ear.

"Why," he breathes, "Why would you go back to them? They'll only hurt you again." His breath tickles the shell of my ear, I shivered, then shuddered as his fingers wound themselves in my hair, his fingertips, cold, running along my skin. I sigh and lean into him.

"Please." It's unnecessary to ask, he already has me, wrapped around his finger.

"Yes." I breathe. I find my hands, and wind them around his neck.

* * *

Please review.


	8. Into the Blue

_Before the Grey: _

* * *

_**Chapter 8: **_

**Into the Blue**

* * *

Some part of me felt guilty, like I was betraying someone by being here interacting with someone I have always thought of as a big brother on such an intimate level. But when he brought his hands from my shoulders to drag down the sides of my body slowly, sculpting his hands around every curve and then back up, my train of thought completely derailed.

My lips parted, I let out a shaky breath and I pulled him closer to me, having made up my mind (as soon as the ability to think coherently returned, of course) that what ever happened in my past doesn't matter. He is my present and my future now.

His lips slide up along my neck to my jaw. He places a soft kiss there and sighs heavily. The rush of air on my skin feels nice, though I know I will have his scent all over me now, which will be suspicious.

He raises his head, and he looks at me. The expression in his eyes is unreadable. Slowly they close and he leans down, my stomach burns and twists as my eyes remain wide open. His lips touch my forehead lightly. It was anything than what I expected, it wasn't rough or angry or needy. I found myself wanting to kiss him even more now, it seemed his lips were everywhere but where I wanted them to be, on mine.

My hands tighten in his obsidian hair, fistfuls struggling to pull the silky stands that keep slipping through my hands. His lips move down my cheek and place a hard open kiss on the extreme corner of my mouth. I moan, feeling like I'm going to snap under the weight of the anticipation.

He chuckles darkly.

Aubrey deliberately brings his lips to my neck and plants a teasing kiss that barely lasts a second. It's so light I can barely feel his lips brush across mine. Anger silvers up my spine, as I'm getting impatient.

He becomes stiff, on edge; he must have heard it before I did. Someone outside his door, most likely a stupid human, was knocking obnoxiously loud. He growls and appears next to the door. _"What!?"_

Riley is standing on the other side of the door with merry grin on his face, my hand clenches into a ball, and I feel like hitting him as punishment for his idiocy. I sat up but angle myself away from the door, which Aubrey has only opened just enough to see out of.

"Me and Asher were wondering if you guys wanted to go feed with us, it's like twelve, I think." He says.

"No, go away." Aubrey says tightly, at first Riley backs off, but being the idiotic vampire he is he decides to push Aubrey's limits.

"Oh! Were you doing _that_?" He can hardly disguise his mirth before Aubrey slams the door in his face, angry. The door shook in its frame and the boom of the impact spread through out the house.

I am right behind him, so when he turns around he is surprised to see me standing here with my arms crossed an annoyed expression on my face. He smirks and grabs me by the shoulders. He spins me around and slams my back against the wall. He ducks his head and put his mouth to my neck, his teeth graze over my skin and he takes a deep breath from my hair.

And then it happens. What I had been waiting for and nothing could prepare me for it. It was better then what I had imagined, and it was completely different then how I pictured it.

His mouth crashed down on mine, hard. They stayed there for a moment until lips started to move, furiously grinding against mine. His hands slid to the back of my neck and the small of my back, pulling me close. I was squished against the wall and his body, leaning heavily into me. I am glad breathing isn't an issue, we didn't stop for a while.

His breathing is quick and uneven as he laid a trail of wet, open kisses through out my neck, down to my collarbone. I hadn't been paying close attention to my own breathing which was at approximately the same pace as a human who'd just sprinted a mile without stopping. I tried to control it but was making little progress.

As if he has read my thoughts, Aubrey nips hard on the skin just above were my pulse would be. My breath stops in my throat, the muscles in my belly tighten. I lean my head back against the door and sigh.

He must have gotten bored with his antics, because he switches to a different method to surprise me. His mouth moves in a circular motion, as if he has just bitten be and is drinking _my_ blood. I can't think clearly anymore, I feel drugged and my legs give, but my weight doesn't bother him. It's insane, sadistic torture, but it's also heaven, because it feels so good.

I would have thought the anger, the hunger, would have died down by now, but it just seems to get more and more overpowering. He is dominating, I have no choice, I submit to him. Though I'm not complaining, I don't exactly know what I should do, I have almost no memory of when I was human.

Something changed in the air, it was thick and not exactly tense but it wasn't easy either. He stopped and rested his head on my shoulder, his nose pressed against my neck and tickled, he took time to just breathe but his breath wasn't slowing. I suddenly got scared; I didn't want the feeling to die down.

My fingers run through his hair and pull until he raises his head to look me in the eye. The look excites me and scares me, its passionate and I can see the lust he tries so hard to suppress. My self-confidence skyrocketed at the thought that he actually wanted me, _badly_.

I stand on my toes to reach and plant a kiss on the skin just below his ear and drag them down his neck to where his artery is, just below a layer of skin. I take the skin between my teeth, just as he did to me, and suck on it. He lets out an extremely ragged breath and I can feel a series of shudders ripple down his spine under my hands. I smile relieved that he reacted so well, at least I am guessing (hoping to God) that was a good reaction.

"Your really asking for it aren't you?" He breaths it against the side of my face, but I can still hear the shake in his voice. It sounds disturbing coming from Aubrey. He's always so strong and firm, but now he sounds so fragile and weak, it's a strange feeling to know that I have power over _him_.

* * *

By now we had figured out the rest of the song and experimented with the drums. Finally, we had progressed far enough to actually record the song. Behind the thick layer of glass, I can see Rick's face, impressed and obviously smug as I belt out the chorus. I had been afraid I came on too strong, but the electric and bass responded just as powerfully.

A small crowd had gathered in the room, they watched with dazed expressions, clearly amazed by us. Rick rarely ever touched the dials and switches on the large intimidating board that was spread out in front of him. He didn't have to tweak my voice to perfection, or up the tempo to disguise flaws because there were none.

When Aubrey fired the rest of the notes and the song came to an end applause erupted in the room that I thought was too big to be used only for recording. It had every instrument you could imagine and in a range of styles. It was all over the top if you asked me.

We were all lounging on the sofas in the room, taking a break. Some one asked if I wanted water for my throat, I politely declined, but the human looked as if I had just told them I loved him. The crowd of our employees left grudgingly when Rick suggested they get back to work. Only Dan remained, he being the co-manager was entitled to such 'privileges' as Rick called them, his arrogance annoyed me.

I crossed my arms and waited for Rick to spill the news that had him bubbling with excitement. Whatever it was, it was annoying me, and I want to get back to recording our line up of other songs. He sat down in his big chair at the recording booth and turned it to face us.

His hands came together and his smile spread until his lips parted and finally he said it, "There's some good news and there's bad news which would you like to hear first?" His smile faded and he coughed when he saw our expressions, nobody said anything for a while.

"Right," He said quietly, "Well the good news is that I asked to make a video and Macro approved. They're traveling here as we speak." Everyone burst into a cheer at the thought of making more videos, especially Asher who loves to see himself on the big screen. Vanity would be his downfall, I laughed quietly at the thought.

Aubrey smirked and said, "So the bad news would be..?"

"Well the bad news would be that we have very limited time with the crew!" His hearty laugh bounced around the walls and hurt my ears, but I laughed too. I laughed at the fact that he was worried about us not getting our lines right and having to do the video repeatedly before we got it perfect. Knowing us being what we are, we would most likely have it down perfect on our first try.

* * *

The living room is bustling with activity and buzzing with conversation. It is a room below the first floor but it is very spacious, it seems as though every one is here. It's a little much for just one band but I guess not every one here works with the band. There are a couple girls and a few guys that are sitting at my table talking and laughing casually.

I know none of them and I am very surprised that they haven't launched into an interrogation, asking questions like the maniacs I thought they would be. Instead, they laugh about their day and the stupid things they had done, or how they many numbers they had received. They must have known I was involved with Aubrey since none of them ever brought up his name when they judged the people in the room.

Times like this I loved to play human, when I could be easy and think, as I would have if I were human. It gave me a glimpse into what it was like to be the woman I was before.

Light music plays in the background of all our dull noise, it isn't anything of mine, but it still has a nice beat and a rhythm that is easy to dance to. I can see a big screen T.V. that covers most of the far wall. There are controllers plugged into a very sophisticated looking game consol, and some football game glitters on the screen. I can see the rest of my band there controllers in hand, razzing each other and laughing.

I feel lonely, even with the atmosphere of familiarity I feel empty, as if something is missing. And then I remember, the memory of Carlisle's family always fallows the weird feeling. I want to see them badly; I want to apologize for the crazy, unpredictable way I acted in their home.

When I am sure none of my band members are watching, I excuse myself from the table and slip away into the dark, cold night.


	9. GreenEyedMonster

_Before the Grey:_

* * *

_Chapter 9: _

**The Green Eyed Monster**

* * *

Snow swirls thickly around my path, the flakes fall relentlessly from the black clouds above that block all of the moons light. There is quickness in my step, my shoe hits the ground, stays there for only a fraction of a second before it's moved and hits the ground again. Though I could easily smell, hear and sense him coming from a mile away I find myself looking over my shoulder the whole way.

I feel scared, not dreadful yet excited like I thought I would, I only feel fear. I thought about going back once on the way, thought about turning around and pretending nothing happened, but I knew that Aubrey would know. He would instantly see the difference in my attitude, he would see through the act, the false smile I put up to keep him from reading my guilt.

Sneaking out then going back with out gaining the information I sought only to be caught when I came back. I figured it would be better to just find out what I needed to know and get back to my life, facing the music wouldn't (couldn't) be that bad. After all, it's not like Aubrey would be too mad at me forever. Besides, I planned to never coming here again after tonight.

I had left around ten o'clock, and I estimated that if Aubrey were to keep occupied I would most likely have approximately two hours before he noticed my absence and about another hour before he would start to worry. Three hours should be enough to discuss myself with these people. The only things I had to remember was to leave just after midnight, my alibi for tonight would be, of coarse, hunting.

I would come back and act like nothing had changed, even though I knew that I would be different after I learned who I was before my second life (or my first death…). I frown to myself, a sharp glance over my shoulder confirms my mild case of paranoia, but then to not fear disobeying Aubrey would make me a mentally ill and/or suicidal vampire.

The soft glow of lights met me after I was starting to think I had gotten lost. Relief washed through me, it ebbed quickly away at the sight that greeted me. In front of the house, the two figures look glorious with the glow outlining their bodies like a halo. There are arguing from the tones of their voices, the shorter one, Rosalie, swung her hands about, her lips move fast, a steady stream of acidic word leapt from her lips and into my ears.

"Why? The only thing her and her family have ever been is trouble for us- trouble for Ed-" I clear my throat; I remembered what they say about eavesdroppers...

She stops just in time, by the shock on her face I can tell she is glad she did, she must have been about to say something she would have regretted. Jasper turns toward me, a somber expression on his face. He looks at me, then away, probably expecting Aubrey to pop out of nowhere and attack him.

"I didn't bring him with me." I start slowly, not sure how to say it. The way he relaxes and drops his guard angers me, as if the confrontation a few days earlier had been entirely Aubrey's fault. I take a breath and lower my eyes to the snow, the ice crystals piling on top of each other delicately. "I'm sorry about the way I acted last time I was here, it was a sensitive topic I didn't anticipate my reaction…" I trailed off awkwardly the silence was killing me.

"Bella, I think it would be better if you left." My head snaps up in shock, I look at her face; it is not welcoming in fact, it almost seems resentful. My chest feels like It's going to cave in. I nod slowly, numbly. "I think it would be better for you-and us, if you didn't come back."

With out feeling it, with out seeing it, and with out thinking it, I turn and walk away. In no particular direction, I wondered around until my thoughts caught up to me. The anger spreads fast and hot like an inferno of rage. I decide to get out of the woods and go into the city, to distract myself.

Instead of the strip mall I had been in last time, I had stumble upon a small gas station with what looks like only two customers that I can see through the glass of the front window. From where I stand, I watch the cashier girl stab herself in the hand with her pencil on accident. I can't smell it, but just the small amount of blood that beads in her palm is an irresistible temptation.

I will myself to walk slowly and calmly into the convenience store, ignoring the sore, scratchy, painful feeling in the back of my mouth and the pit of my throat. The heat blasts against my skin along with the mouth-watering scent of rich, warm blood, as I open the door. The smell of the girl is dulled by the fact that she hasn't eaten in a while.

I take a step back when I notice she's walking in my direction. I realize a second too late that she's probably walking toward the bathroom, a bathroom located somewhere behind me. How unfortunate.

The breeze that hits me is the catalyst; I am unable to deny myself. Not caring to count how many people are actually in the store, or thinking about hiding my actions, I reach out, grab her by her upper arm, and snatch her roughly to me. I smooth her hair away from her tanned neck not caring to take notice of the color, and latch on before she knows what is going on.

She screams and attempts to pull away but my muscles stay locked, I can hear footsteps, noisy and coming in my direction. My arm streaks through the air and meets the chest of some unsuspecting person, sending them flying through the air. I hadn't even thought of doing it, it was a natural reaction. I open my eyes and let the limp girl fall to the floor.

Blood has risen in the air since the time I was interrupted. My eyes search franticly, darting in every direction to find the host of it. It taunts me, drifting in the air, dancing in and out of my reach. Then a **'click'** ripples through the silence, shattering it.

I move through space like a phantom, noiseless and determined to catch my prey. I see him on the ground bleeding from the back of his head, his body bent at an odd angle to reach the phone on top of the counter. He is slow in his actions, but I can hear the dial tone, I smile slightly, I have yet to drink from a boy as young as he is. I can tell how old he is by the freshness of the scent.

I stop and walk normally to him, he freezes and stiffly turns, and in his eyes is pure fear. If I could I would have let him live, but he had seen me with the older girl, I can't let that get out. Angrily I curse myself under my breath and look around smelling the air. I can hear shuffles; probably some cowardly humans who would rather save themselves then help others. They disgust me, I won't feel guilty about killing them.

"I'm so sorry." I whisper to the boy when I have him by the shoulders, I kiss his neck before biting into it. In second's he falls limp, I place him softly on the ground and appear in front of the emergency exit door. The man's eyes widen and he falls back, trying to crawl away from me. "Y-you! Y-you're not human!" He screams this.

I smile warily, and grab him, when I finish I feel full and content, but I know I can't stop. I hop up on top of the shelf and look, too lazy to do anything else. I've spotted them and they know. It is a boy about nineteen, he has a smaller girl in his arms, she's too young to be his girlfriend and too old to be his daughter, there for she must be his little sister.

I reach forward and the little girl screams tightening her grip on his chest. He brings out a pocketknife so fast I would have been surprised if I didn't have instincts that reacted before even I had time to think. I knock it away with the back of my hand, kneel down to put my lips to his neck. The girl scrambles away, I let her. The sound she makes stops me before I can do anything to her brother.

I look up and tense, the cut runs deep from the heel of her hand to the crease in her elbow is bleeding profusely. My mouth is suddenly is so dry it hurts and my throat is raw as if I didn't just feed three times before. My hands reach for her before I tell them too; I grab the older boy by the throat when he tries to take advantage of the distraction that is his family.

He claws desperately at my hands when I bring the little girls cut arm to my lips. She dies of blood loss in less then five minutes and I drink from her brother as well. I could have just snapped their necks and saved myself some time but I hate to waste.

After ridding myself of any other troublesome witnesses I rinse the ceiling and the entire inside of the store with gasoline I find in one of the isles, I place bags of coal through out the store and by my leftovers. Normally, the guilt of murder would hang over my head heavy and thick like a cloud, but the anger and frustration I feel toward myself and Rosalie has come out and doesn't show any signs of receding back in to the dark corner in my heart in which it resides.

I saunter over to the counter and take some lighters, matches and black nail polish. I put them into the pockets of my jacket. I have never been much of a shoplifter but I tonight I feel creative. The cashier machine breaks easily under my palm, I pile the bills into one hand but leave the coins, better to make it look like a robbery then manslaughter do to a vampire.

I empty boxes of matches in the four corners of the small building and light each of the piles with a single match. The flames lapped up to the ceiling in a matter of seconds, it consumed the gasoline hungrily spreading much faster than I had anticipated. I stand in the middle of the heat and excitement and stare at the beauty of it, the light, and the energy. The saying "Like a moth to the flame" came and went in my head and I laugh. I could see why the little creatures are so attracted.

I side step a burning body and pick up the phone, I dial 911 and wait until the monotone voice greets me, "Nine-one-one what's your emergency?" A section of the roof collapses behind me, I hiss as some of the cinders burn in my hair and the exposed skin of my neck and hands. I drop the phone in time to dodge another part of the ceiling that caves in.

Outside I stare at the beauty of the heat, the process of the material solids phasing into gases that float up into the sky dark grey against the black sky, and ashes obsidian on the ivory snow. I take a step back and force myself away from it, I didn't trust myself not to run back in and-

I banish the thought from my mind and keep running.

The hotel looks more like a mansion. It has no billboard sign that advertises, no flashy lights in the front, no parking lot with a valet asking for your keys and wishing you a good stay. It's the best, but it's not open to just _any celebrities_, I guess that makes me pretty special.

I scale the wall to the third story and open my window quietly, I don't know how long I must have been in that gas station, Aubrey could have found out that I left long ago and might be waiting for me. I have one leg over the sill when I regret coming in this way, if he is waiting for me he would be waiting in his room, which means he would be able to hear me. He would instantly know that I was up to something, he would jump to conclusions. He would be pissed.

I stood straight and turned, a wave of relief is obliterated by the fear that racks through my body and I flinch away from the man, leaning against the wall, waiting. His arms are crossed and his eyes show no trace of emotion, his face smoothed free of it. His face is in shadow but his shoulders down is illuminated from the moonlight that streams in through the window.

_Damn._

His eyes slide lazily over to me, his lips part and his arms separate. One hand moves toward me, I swallow thickly as it is placed on the side of my face, "Bella, you looked so frightened." He says. I force my eyes shut and try to compose myself. Right now, I want to run, hide behind something.

I fear him.

That much is clear to me above all else. My eyes snap open; I gasp and take step back. His eyes dance and glitter with some emotion, I cannot identify it but it looks sick on his face. A face that lights with emotion at my panic. In this moment, I realize the difference between us.

The difference between predator and prey, and for some reason the feeling is strangely familiar.


	10. GreenEyedMonster part 2

_Before the Grey: _

* * *

_**Chapter 10:**_

_The Green Eyed Monster part 2_

* * *

He moves too fast for me to see, I feel blinding pressure for a fraction of a second and I slam into the wall. I'm too confused to realize what's going on until I get over my shock and ever-present fear. His lips move in such a needy way, such a hungry, relentless style I succumb quickly. I do my best to keep up with him, I don't know how well I am doing but I would never know by the way he acts around me.

His hands move around on me but I can't feel it, only the bruising force on my lips. It scares me, like an addict deprived of the drug, he never slows down or slowly loses the anger, and he never seems to get enough. Enough of what? I have asked myself what it is that attracts him to me, I've never been able to come up with a straight answer, but I know it goes beyond superficial appearances_. Lust?_

No.

But when he pulls away and turns his attention to my neck his breathing is heavy and uneven, I am not sure anymore. I cry out, not realizing how loud I must be when a stinging, painful sensation pulses down my back. I melt like putty in his arms, trying to breathe and forgetting that I don't need to. My response only encourages him, he bites down harder and crushes me to him.

He's kissing me when I taste the cold, bitter tang on his lips, I pull back confused and see him smirking, a trickle of blood at the corner of his lips. I press a hand to the crook of my neck where the pain had swept through a moment earlier.

His smirk stretches wider on his face when he sees my eyes widen, shocked. He looks wild, like an animal hungry and rampaging, nothing like the calm, cool Aubrey, I have come to know. The violence doesn't surprise me, though he always wears a thick coat of nothingness as if he isn't feeling anything, the anger, the tension, it's always been there, it always is there.

What scares me is the fact that it looks like he's lost all control, every little thread he worked so hard to obtain. It scares me to think that one day it might turn into something, that the situation might be snatched completely out of my hands…

A sound, like a stampede makes its way up the stairs into my room. Aubrey vanishes, but not before kissing me one more time possessively on the lips, just before they barrel through the door.

Asher, Riley, and Seth trip over themselves laughing and punching each other playfully-yet hard enough to kill any human who might be too close- I stay still, leaning weakly on the wall, staring into the space Aubrey used to take up.

"Bella!" Seth says between bouts of laughter, I shake my head, plaster a fake smile to my face, and act the way I normally would. I point at them-crumbled on the floor and tied up, trying to get up but pushing each other down in the process- and laugh resting my other hand on my knee.

When they finally get up, they stand around my room and converse lightly with me for the next twenty minutes. "Bella I hardly see you anymore!" Riley whines and hugs me from behind. I push at his big arms and laugh at him, "Sure you do!"

I think back to the day we had first arrived here, a little over a week ago, I do the math in my head and think back on every day trying to remember what I did. I find myself thinking a lot about the time I spent with Aubrey and the Cullens, I sort the events before and after I met the family I used to belong to and the new love interest. I wonder what the guys would think about me and Aubrey.

"Hey, what did you guys come up here for anyway?" I ask as soon as I can convince Riley that I won't vanish into thin air. He pats his hair, which tonight he has gelled up into spikes sticking up in every direction.

"Um, Oh! Rick said he got us a gig at a theatre or somethin' like that." He says in a monotone voice trying to remember exactly what he had been told.

"Really, when?" I feel over-excited; the thought of playing for people thrills me. At first, I was scared to death of performing, but I quickly got over that fear. My self-esteem and my confidence skyrocketed at the fact that all I had to do was sway my hips a little and sing and the crowd would be hypnotized.

* * *

I closed the door behind me and walked down the hallway at a leisurely pace. Sure, she looked happy enough, but Bella was an excellent actor if she needed to be. The smell of these humans was very nearly driving me crazy I need to get out and hunt quickly, lest I do something I might regret later.

"_Seth, cut it out. You worry too much!" _She had said, I wondered if she wastalking about me slipping up, or her being okay.

I turned the corner and stopped, I stared in shock and horror at the scene that was unfolding in front of me. Aubrey stood in a shadowy part of the hallway; a skinny girl with short blond hair was leaning into him, her hands in the back pockets of his baggy black jeans. She stared longingly into his eyes; I could tell from where I was standing they were black, flat black.

His hands were on both sides of her face, he looked down at her with intense desire in his expression. I knew that look; it wasn't the form of lust that the pretty little blonde was hoping for, he was thirsty and by the look of it she wouldn't last. They never do. He kissed her full on the lips and moved his hands to rest just above her butt. She, predictably, reached up and laced her fingers together around his neck.

He lowered his mouth to her neck, hidden from me under layered golden hair. My throat burned furiously, I couldn't force myself to move, fear kept me in my place. I wanted to take the girl away from Aubrey, but I couldn't I wasn't that brave, I wasn't that stupid. The smell of blood rose in the air and spread down the hall, strong and seductive.

I wasn't even breathing, so when Aubrey looked up at me I flinched away as if he had threatened me. His eyes twinkled with mirth, satisfaction, and something that more than scared the living shit out of me. Like a demon out of hell. He brought one finger to his bloody lips, which rose up at the corners, "Shh." And then he opened his mouth to her neck again.

_Shh, don't tell Bella…_

I ran, out of the house through the dark I ran as fast as I could, I didn't want to leave anyone let alone Bella in the same house as _him_. I hated with every fiber of my being the fact that he had power over me, with one look he had managed to add to the fear I already felt toward him. I dropped to the ground, and put my head in my hands, I realized I didn't have brotherly feelings for him like I did for Seth and Asher. I only felt fear and a dull resentment that always seemed to linger when he was around.

I hated especially when he would touch her Bella was too fragile to be around a monster like him. Even the small things, like when he would insist things for her as if he really cared, as if he really loved her like his own sister the way the rest of us did. I don't know what I would do if he ever put his hands on her in more than a 'brotherly' way.

* * *

A thick layer of dark clouds blocks hangs idle in the sky. Rick is running around in frenzy, frustrated and extremely annoyed that our makeup artist, Jen, is missing. She hasn't shown up yet, and we go on stage in fifteen minutes. Also, Asher's making a big fuss over the size of the audience, it's rather small for us being as popular as are.

To top it all off Seth is acting weird, not his usual self; he fidgets and stutters often lately. When I look him in the eye, I see vague panic but mostly dread. It worries me, it's not like he's afraid of performing, that's my thing, he loves the attention and the effect his immortal beauty has on all our naïve fans.

I bite my nails, not only because the skin-tight black halter, short skirt and matching heels (that can only be described as a safety hazard) have me nervous and self-conscious, (as the outfit was not my idea) but because of Aubrey. And how he keeps looking at me. The intensity plain as day in his eyes-which are a vibrant red tonight.

The VIP dressing room thing we're sitting in is a small rectangle shaped room, with two doors on the short walls and black leather couches lined up against the long walls. Asher plays with some drumsticks, flipping them over and over, repeatedly in his hands, his spiky mow hawk moves methodically as he nods to the music playing in the other room. On his left Aubrey, sits leaning forward with his elbows on his knees fingers laced together holding his ivory guitar pick, staring.

I chip at the black nail polish on my thumb, cross and uncross my legs, run my hands through my hair and yet he can't seem to get the message. For someone so smart he can be a complete fool at times. Surely, he knows that the guys won't take kindly to us being a two, a couple, lovers even, maybe. Or maybe he doesn't care and he's provoking them, though it's not like they could do anything, after all Aubrey is Aubrey.

Finally, I hear the audience screaming and clapping louder than before as the current band stops playing and their performance drifts to a closing. I stand first and half run to the back door, relieved to (finally) have an excuse to escape Aubrey's gaze.

Back stage its dark with small lamps hanging above our heads, there are cords winding and twisting like snakes. There is a bright, white, light at the back of the stage, which casts silhouettes of the instruments on the thin, white screen that distorts the view from the audience.

The crowd literally goes crazy when we first walk onto the stage, after our good luck ritual and a lengthy speech from Rick of course. I stand in front of the microphone and wait impatiently for Asher to get situated and Seth to get to the far side of the stage where his guitar is perched neatly on its stand.

Suddenly blue and red lights flash across the white screen from the outside and the white light behind us starts to blink like a strobe light. The pure motion of it is so pretty and distracting I barely register the screen rising.

I stare out at the sea of bodies, and oh the scent! Well, its more like a small lake than a sea, compared to most of our shows. I can tell this place is normally a club, by the flashy, revealing clothes of the people below who could very well be celebrities themselves.

Nevertheless, the raised bar is a dead give away. There are several steps to climb before you reach it but when you do reach the top, you can see it has a long counter with stools in front. The dim overhead lights play up the deep shades of wine and various liquors in their bottles lined neatly behind a glass wall.

The bartender is a gorgeous honey-blond man. He is tall and his snug black satin shirt with its sleeves pushed back to his elbows hints at muscle and pale skin. Several woman sitting on the barstools eye him, along with some men.

When Asher starts to beat away at his drums with a methodic, exciting rhythm, the bartender looks up and stares in what looks like shock. Caught off guard I miss my queue to sing, our eyes connect, his are a warm golden color that almost matches his hair. I never expected to see him again, and standing on the stage with a microphone in my hands, a curiosity began to build and all through the song as I was singing, I began to wonder.

I wondered about Esme and Carlisle, Emmett and Rosalie. I wondered if they were wondering about me too. Being so caught up in my wondering I didn't notice that I had sang the chorus twice, and ended the song too early.

My band members looked at me with worry and confusion, I am just glad they had managed the song despite me. I don't wait for them back stage, I just keep walking through the long room and out of the door, down a narrow, semi lit hallway and into the crowd.

I walk around the edges of the room avoiding the packed crowd. It's dark now that the stage lights are off. The only illumination comes from lights built into the floor; they blink on and off white then purple, then red, then blue. I climb the stairs to the bar and sit in one of the barstools toward the back. I put my head down on my arms, folded on the glass top.

"I don't think you'll find anything here." I look up, the blond bartender smiles. It's small, and awkward, unsure even, but it's enough to make some of the many women ogling him turn and give me dirty looks or narrow their eyes.

"Jasper, hi." Is the only thing I manage to say. "Your right, I guess." I say after a heavy silence that shatters like glass when I break it.

"Then you should leave." His head snaps up, his eyes glare somewhere behind me, to someone behind me. I twist in my seat and see her. She is wearing a skin tight black halter and matching leather skirt -which reminds me of the little ensemble that I have on- and leaning against the sleek gold rail of the balcony with her arms crossed.

I recognize her immediately, her acidic words still wring in my ears. She pushes away from the rail and saunters off, her wavy golden hair floating behind. A single thick, black streak in her hair stands out in the midst of the glittery blond.


	11. Burnt Orange

_Before the Gray:_

* * *

_**Chapter 11:**_

_Burnt Orange_

* * *

More than anything else, the apology is apparent on his face. I twist in my seat, his voice stops me, "I'm sorry about Rose, she…" He trails off, he started off strong, now it seemed as though he couldn't find the right words to say.

"No. She's right, I shouldn't be here, it's not my place." Feeling completely deflated, I slide off the barstool. I haven't taken one step before I feel something smooth and cool on my wrist. I turn to see him, reaching far over the glass; his black shirt dimly shimmers over the hazy light.

"Ignore her, your band came to play, so actually your supposed to be here." A smile slid into place where a thin line used to be. "And speaking of your band, I didn't know that you were the lead singer of Eclipse, Rose made such a fuss over you, she couldn't accept the idea of you being a vampire." He laughs a little at the end, I barely manage to stop myself from flinching. I knew he would say something about my changing, but I didn't think it would affect me this badly, or affect me at all. I don't know why I feel like this, like I want to cry, like I wish I wasn't what I am.

I don't say anything, just look at him, he looks away, then into the glass and stares at my reflection. I look down at the glass, its weird how I can look at his image in the glass, if I look into his eyes it's the same as if I was looking at straight at him.

"You should come back."

The reply is on my lips, but before I can add in my voice, his lips part and move and derail my train of thought completely, summoning forth emotion I had banished to the darkest most remote parts of my mind, "Don't you wish to know were you came from?"

I flinch and take a step back but his grip is unrelenting, "How-"

"Trust me." Then he lets go and I walk away, fast. There is a mad rush inside my head where the confusion settles in. Everything around me blurs and collapses in on itself until it is just me and my muddled thoughts.

Outside the door, I stop and put on my mask, the one I recently started wearing around everyone. It's a happy one made of smiles and emotion. Its one that hides my true self and protects it.

When I open the door they don't look at me, for that I am grateful. The attention of my band members instead is on the large T.V. that spans the wall. On the delicate screen images dance across, graceful but fleeting like the careful steps of a dancer, deliberate. I see Asher, his mo-hawk blurring back and forth perfectly in tune to his hands thrashing against the snowy drums. Tan sticks his tool of choice.

I see Aubrey. I hardly recognize him, his eyes glitter, and his face, there are no words to describe the expression on his face. Some where between pain and joy and desire. His hair black as night, falls into his eyes as he sways and rocks and shakes his head along with Asher. He licks his lips earning squeals from fans of both genders who, would kill each other just to touch him, they try. His lips full and inviting mouth the words of the song; the effect is as if he was singing.

Then I see the one singing, she's all glitter and shine. She nods to the beat and shakes her head causing her hair to whip about her face. On a particular note she stops all movement and looks longingly into the crowd, she reaches out as if to grab something. It must have escaped her, for she lowers her hands disappointed and raises her voice louder and louder still maybe out of anger. She grips the microphone as if her life depends on it.

She is flanked by two guitarists who are joined together by their instruments and their similar tunes by split apart by their contrasting appearances. One is all muscle and curly dark hair that rains down to just above his shoulders. His notes are powerful and rush out from between his fingers like water, flooding the whole room, suffocating the silence though it has long died. The other is the bassist, smaller, less violent, but not quiet in the least. He moves the most though jumping and rocking hard to all the noise. His hand punches the air, pinky and index fingers extended, the crowd mimics him jumping and shouting, their arms floating like tall grass swaying in a distraught wind.

I don't realize the small smile has spread across my face until Asher and Seth break out in a contagious laughter, pointing out how stupid the other looks. My lips part against my will and I laugh so loudly and so long, my stomach begins to hurt and there is no sound just my shoulders shaking, and intense feeling almost like heat settling in my chest.

They turn to me, surprised as if they hadn't heard me come in. Then they laugh harder at the ridiculous look I can imagine has distorted my face.

* * *

He smells like smoke when he hugs me, his lips are warm and taste sweetly, and his whole body seems to buzz with new energy. Our greeting is cut short by a rustling behind a door down the hall, we break apart and act casual, making small talk of the consort last night.

"….So yeah, I think we really did nail that last song, I mean with it being our first live performance of it." It's almost too obvious, but Aubrey decides to play along anyway, though he can't resist a laugh and trademark smirk.

"You mean we did a damn good job considering you messed up on more than one occasion." This would have been a blush moment; instead, I look away and mumble something vaguely resembling an apology.

I can hear the footsteps behind me, feel the air 'whoosh' out as the human exhales.

Aubrey gives me a look, "What was distracting you anyway?" There is something on the edge of this statement, an accusation. His eyes, there is some emotion lying there, something I can't identify.

"Just thought I saw someone I know-knew." I shake my head and shrug. He doesn't believe me.

I can feel the human staring at the back of my head, the footsteps have stopped, I hadn't noticed. Aubrey releases me and fixes his gaze on the person behind me. My irritation with this girl disappears, as she slices through the tension with her wavering voice. I turn slowly to look at her, her eyes flit to me and then back to Aubrey, her eyes are red rimmed and her hands shake at her sides.

"Have either of you seen Missy?" I raise a brow, Aubrey slips his hands into his pockets and pushes his shoulders back, relaxed. His dark mood seems to have lifted with the change of subject, for that I am grateful. The unsaid words float around the air between us, _Missy who?_

I smell the salt break out behind her eyes pooling just below her lids and the scent of her tears to be shed leaks out. I can tell she is offended by our lack of interest and knowledge. I feel sorry for her when Aubrey shrugs indifferently.

"Um, Missy?" The name doesn't ring a bell.

"She was the make up artist for your band." She almost sneers this '_your band_' as if it is my fault. Her use of past-tense must mean she is desperate but pessimistic about finding her friend. The girl seems to notice this too, and flinches, a tear slips down her cheek, which she hastily wipes away with her stretched out sleeve. This only causes more to flow out, I can hear her breathing becoming uneven and she tries to hold back sobs, her brows pull together and arch upwards.

"Blonde, skinny?" Slowly it is coming to me. "Pretty?" I add on for her sake. The girl nods, and I remember, the girl who didn't show up to do her job last night. Vaguely I remember her, always disappointed because she never had to do much to my face, I never needed make up.

"No, I'm sorry, I haven't seen her. What is your name?" I take a step toward her and wrap my arms around her, as she sobs into her hands, "Holly". We were her last option, clearly. Why ask people who can't even remember her name? She must have anticipated the answer; I comfort her in the midst of her sorrow. Deep within me, in some part of my soul that I cannot recall I sympathize with her, I have felt despair, and my heart aches for her.

De ja vu is a strange feeling. I look back at Aubrey, his eyes are clouded over, he seems lost in thought, and to my complete shock and chagrin he turns and walks away as if nothing is amiss. Anger boils below the surface, and the only thing I can think is 'i_nsensitive jerk'. _ The annoyance is to be expected but the animosity I feel surprises me.

* * *

After half hour of comforting and helping Holly, regain her composure, I join the rest of my band in the studio. Deliberately, I sit in on the black leather couch opposite Aubrey, in the space between Asher and Seth. I come down with a huff, and Seth throws me a look, he looks to Aubrey who shrugs. I roll my eyes, my resentment grows, and piques just by looking at him. I can't hear his voice with out remembering how much of an ass he was before.

With Rick and Dan, we talked about music, our songs, our music and other such tings. I found myself shooting down everyone of Aubrey's suggestions and disagreeing with him on almost every topic. I couldn't control it and I could have laughed every time he glared at me.

I picked at my nail polish until our little briefing was over. "Finally." I mutter under my breath, take a deep breath, and exhale loudly, blowing my bangs out of my face. Rick has annoyed written on his forehead, obviously at my attitude. We file out of the room, I think irritably 'why did he have to choose the room out of the million friggin' rooms that only had one door, one way to get out?'

Suddenly I wish I had been the first out of the room instead of getting up slowly, because I see Aubrey waiting for me. I steel myself for his anger. He grabs my arm roughly when I walk past him, he swings me around to face him. "What?" I say irritated.

"What was all that about?" He says referring to the last half hour.

"What? I'm surprised you noticed, you know with you thick skin and all I didn't know anything would get to you!" Sharp as ever he realizes what I'm accusing him of. And he smiles?!

"Sorry, I didn't mean to dump the cry baby on you." His mouth is pulled up at one corner, a breath taking, heart-breaking attempt, but it doesn't, it won't work on me, not now. I rip my arm out of his grip nearly backhanding him at the same time, I can feel my face screwing up into that of an angry expression and I loose grip on my slippery control. He blinks and takes a step forward to embrace me, but I step back stubbornly.

"That is exactly what I'm talking about! Your such a-" And He cuts me off.

"Don't be mad." He says softly, looking away, at the ground maybe. It can only do so much to damper my anger.

"-insensitive, ego-centric, jerk!" Now there is a thin line, of anger, on his mouth. I take a step to the side, and walk around him.

"Where are you going?"

I stop, and then wonder who (the hell) does he think he is? He is not my father, but he's acting like my keeper.

"Actually," I turn slightly and glare holes into his back, "I think I'll go visit the Cullen's." I leave him with the taste of anger in his mouth.

* * *

Oh, and just in case you were wondering Eclipse (Bella's band) is a rock band. It's sounds like a cross between Evanescence, Flyleaf, and Paramore. So, if you want to, you can go check out those bands.


	12. Brownish Purple

_Before the Grey:_

* * *

_**Chapter 12:**_

**Brownish Purple**

* * *

And they do accept me. Like I knew they would. No sidelong glances or whispers or awkward silences, just them and me coming together like some long lost family. At first it was the surprise that kept us from saying what we wanted to say, now it was the fact that the polite conversation we had been making for the past several minutes had come to a close.

"Bella, dear, would you like something to eat or to drink-" She stops in the middle of the word, too late to realize her mistake. Now we all look at the ground, or the wall, or that solitary crumb on the floor by the counter.

"I'm sorry- I forgot that you- I mean- it's just so hard to- well- I'm so sorry Bella." Esme makes a face, she must be so angry with herself. It hurts to see Esme in pain.

"No, it's okay. That's what I came to talk to you about." Carlisle leans against the counter top, his arms folded. Esme takes my hands in hers from across the island; I keep my eyes on its shiny, granite surface.

I swallow thickly; I can't seem to find the worlds.

The silence is shattered into a thousand shards. I jump as a -very solid sounding- white ball smacks into the large, spotless, sliding glass door that spans nearly the entire wall. The door is wrenched to the side, and then slammed shut, the entire wall trembles violently from the force. Emmett hunches over the handle, roaring with laughter. His curls drip, and snake around his neck, and his sleeveless t-shirt is caked with white sparkling crystals. There is a large lump of packed snow resting comfortably on his head.

Seconds later the glass is simultaneously pelted with hundreds of snowballs. It sounds like thunder and for a second I think the glass may explode from the pressure. I jump up off the barstool I had been sitting on and look around, trying to do something, but can't think of anything.

It takes a minute for the snowballs halt their punishment on the surprisingly strong glass and for the blue-grey ice to begin its decent of the wall at snails pace. Emmett looks back at us with a certain look on his face, kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He doesn't even see me, I bite my lip to keep the peals of laughter inside my chest.

The handle of the door is wrenched from his grip, and sweeping the snow to one side. I see Jasper rush in, bringing a pile of snow in with him. He crashes into Emmett and they fall to the floor with a 'boom'. "Boys!" They look up, Esme has a 'beyond annoyed' expression on her face, I can't help it, a few giggles escape.

And for the first time they see me. They stare there eyes wide. Well, Emmett stares with wide eyes. But, Jasper, he must have known that eventually I'd show up, because he is wearing this half smile. His golden hair sparkles, matching his honey eyes.

With out warning I'm wrapped in a bear hug so tight I fear my ribs will cave in. He swings me around and mutters unintelligible things when he puts me down, he looks expectantly, searching my face.

"Aren't you dizzy?" His expression is that of disappointment.

"No."

"You sure?" He says after a moment of silence.

I shake my head slowly.

His shoulders droop, as he walks to the island, the square counter top that separates the kitchen from the informal dining area.

Esme promptly orders him and Jasper to clean up the mess they made by the door. By mess, she refers to the mountain of snow they tracked in. I am not surprised that it hasn't melted vampires don't use heaters.

"So what are you here for?" Jasper asks after he shoveled out the last of the snow, and we all sat down again. Emmett makes a face and makes a show of socking him in the arm.

"As if she needs a reason!" He howls Jasper raises his fist-

"Boys!" Esme gives an exasperated sigh and shakes her head. She turns to me and smile again. "So tell us, how did manage the singing business?"

At first I'm surprised she'd ask that question, I guess I would be surprised if she asked any questions considering my last outburst. "Well, it's kind of a jumble of events, but it really all started when I met Aubrey." There, I see it in their eyes they are already making assumptions. "He has always been like a big brother to me, he was the only one who helped me after Victoria-" '_What's wrong?'_

Pure horror.

It's the only emotion I can distinguish on Esme's face; she looks like she is on the verge of breaking down. Emmett looks at the floor, after he gets over his initial shock. Jasper's eyes are wide and Carlisle looks grim as if he was expecting me to say that name. Everything is quiet.

"So, yeah. Then we met Riley, Seth and Asher, who are my best friends. Some how, through some odd series of fortunate events, we made Eclipse, which, of coarse, has been popular from the very start. I'm actually not surprised you guys have heard of it." I laugh at the end, hoping to cheer them up a little.

"So how far back can you remember-?"

"Emmett!" Jasper interrupts, but I'm sure I didn't miss anything.

"…I…woke up confused it was so dark." I stare at the random organization of the granite. I search for pictures or something out of place in the dotty minerals.

Someone swallows thickly, I don't lift my head to see who it is, just sit there, letting their newfound knowledge sink in, _'What will you do now?'_

"I've got to go." I say quickly. Esme reaches for me as I'm rounding the corner; she pulls me into a tight embrace "_So sorry"_ She whispers to me before letting me go. "Thank you." I say over my shoulder as I open the door.

I'm off blurring through the trees the snow has stopped falling.

* * *

There is snow caked on the bottom of my jeans, it glitters, and reminds me of vanilla frosting, tiny diamonds strewn upon the surface.

"Finally the princess has arrived." I can almost feel the sarcasm rolling off him, if it wasn't for the anger and frustration dulling my senses. Rick's pulling out his hair. I look around the room, Asher, Riley…Aubrey. "Where's Seth?" I say to push the attention somewhere else.

"Oh, wouldn't we all like to know." Rick again.

I sit down next to Aubrey a silent gesture to show I'm not mad anymore and smile, he doesn't return it.

Riley tells a joke, we all laugh, except Rick who is pacing like a worried mother.

Seth bursts through the door laughing, there is a crowd around the door but he waves them off. A tall girl grabs his arm and he turns, he whispers something in her ear and she throws us all a hostile glare and walks away.

Seth plops down on the other side of Aubrey, still giggling. Rick looks at him for a long time until Seth finally gets a clue.

"Oh! Am I late?" I laugh. Rick's vein is almost busting out of his temple, I wonder if he has ever considered anger management.

"Well it was supposed to be a surprised but since I am not in the mood anymore I'll go straight out and say it."

"Another concert?" Asher inquires

"Oh, joy." Seth whines.

"Ooh, let me guess, another of your little conferences?"

"If you were listening Bella you would know what this is about." He answers.

"Well obviously none of us were, so can you just get it over with?" I smile inside; Aubrey coming to my defense must mean he isn't mad anymore.

"If I could stop getting interrupted, it would be my pleasure to enlighten you." Rick stops to make sure he has our attention.

"Music video." The atmosphere changes completely.


	13. Vermillion

_A/N: So sorry for the long wait, forgive me._

_Before the Gray:_

* * *

_**Chapter 13:**_

**Vermillion**

* * *

Delight. 

It's almost as if the set itself is a moving organism, breathing and alive. I sit on the folding chair my head in my hands just staring. I see Aubrey, a clipboard in his hands, he arguing with one of the directors about something. I see Riley, throwing snowballs at some giggling girls, and Seth off the side with the same girl I saw before.

The scenery of coarse is perfect, what with the fresh layer blanketing the ground as far as you I can see and farther. The deep green of the pines is a refreshing contrast, and the wispy white clouds adorning the light blue sky. The hard black colors of the various cameras, spotlights, computers and music related equipment look very out of place among all the natural things.

Most of the people gather in groups of three's and four's, well the ones who aren't working or scurrying about taking care of their business. People walk, run and skip past me carrying different items, props, camera's. Either way, everyone finds something to complain about, the snow, the cold, working for my 'dumb band', and life in general. It's very amusing actually, with my sensitive ears I can hear the group roughly fifty yards away talking about that Missy girl, and gossiping about that Holly girl.

I can hear every nasty thing they say, _"Slut", "Whore", "…got what she deserved alright!"_

A girl with shiny red hair walks over, having heard what they said. "What did she get?" She sounds indifferent enough, but I can tell she is dying to know and fit in with this group. I have to admit I am very curious to know what they say, this hits home for me, and I feel obligated to Holly to listen.

"Well, what do you know Natalie, I didn't think you would want to talk, much less be in the same room as me after Jason." Her voice trembles slightly, she covers this by shifting her weight to one foot. The other girl makes a face and folds her arms in her thin cute coat, rather look cute than warm I guess.

"Oh come on Celina, we got out of high-school four years ago, can we start acting like it? I just want to know who you're talking about." Her defense mechanism, the obviously thick tension between the two is keeping them from the real topic; I have no interest in there past conflicts. I'd walk over there myself, but they would just get flustered, like a fox in the middle of the hens, it's a subconscious thing.

"Well if you absolutely _must_ know we _were_ talking about that Missy girl, you know the skanky one." I can tell the redheaded girl, Natalie, bristles over the name but tries not to show it. Several girls giggle, there hands encased in mittens cover the mouths to stifle it.

"Yeah, so what about her, I heard she quit with out telling anyone, ran off with some guy or something like that." She trails off at the dubious looks she receives from the circle.

"That isn't what I heard." A girl I can't see in the circle says with mirth in her voice.

"Oh?"

"I heard she went out for a walk and-"Cut off by the ringleader of the group.

"I heard she went for a walk to meet her boyfriend." Celina looks at the redhead, making sure she has her attention, so _very_ unnecessary.

"She didn't find him where he said he would be…so she kept walking-"

"Hey Bella." Aubrey cuts off my view of the girls. I look up annoyed, but the expression fades as he sits down and starts to talk to me.

I pretend to listen but my head is exactly fifty yards away. "So did she find him or what?" Natalie says.

"Oh she found something alright."

"_What_?"

"Oh wouldn't you like to know." I can hear someone sigh dramatically.

"Bella, are you listening?" I blink and look at Aubrey. I smile and nod absently he frowns, but continues.

"Okay, okay" Celina says.

"I wrote it for you, don't you care?" He's touching my face, his is closer than it was a second ago. I can feel the panic building up inside me; I can't believe he's going to do this in front of every one. I can't think of anything to stop it, and I don't know why I feel I have to, it shouldn't matter whether or not everyone knows we're together, but it does. Then, before I can think, before I can understand why I am even saying it, it's on my lips.

"Aubrey…do you know what happened to Missy?" He stops, stiffens and leans away with a hurt expression. Finally, I can concentrate on those girls. "She probably fell off the cliff anyway." The last sentence out before the group disbands and goes off to get ready for whatever. Aubrey stands and walks off, I stand and fallow him. Apparently, the director would like to talk to us as a group.

* * *

The stage is small and circular, the back light is purple and lighter purple, and it casts an odd glow on his dazzling ivory skin. He sits on a tall, plain stool, hunched over a pretty, ebony acoustic guitar, manipulating it to create haunting melody. His fingers dance perpetually over the strings at the body of the instrument and feather across the neck. 

Aubrey is beautiful, inhumanly and unholy, like something of the Gods not meant for the human world. Like the seductive whisper of sin, the equivalent of a drug, heroin rushing through my veins weakening my resolve and me after every exposure.

His body is enough to subdue me; his voice is too much for me to resist for too long. Like something, you're addicted to, taken from you and after some time you get it back, you realize you love it more than you can fathom.

_She seemed dressed in all of me, stretched across my shame_

_All the torment and the pain, leaked through and covered me_

_I do anything to have her to myself, just to have her to myself_

_Now I don't know what to do_

_I don't know what to do when she makes me sane_

This is what he was trying to tell me, when I was distracted and absorbed in some rumor. He was trying to tell me that he loved me and he was sorry, but I was too confused in everything that didn't matter to understand the one thing that did. Now I watch him, on the stage, is heart in his hands in the form of a song offering it to the world. Offering it to me, his world and I know that now.

_She is everything to me, an unrequited dream, a song that no one sings_

_The unattainable, she's a myth that I have to believe in_

_All I need to make it real is one more reason_

_I don't know what to do_

_I don't know what to do when she makes me sad _

He is vulnerable again, something fragile that I can't even imagine associated with him. He is strong, dark, I can't even begin to understand how someone like me could do this to him. Some one like me, so lost and misunderstood and confused, someone like me, so powerless. I can't feel it, it doesn't even seem real.

_But I won't let this build up inside of me _

_I won't let this build up inside of me_

_I won't let this build up inside of me…_

This is the same club we first performed in, only this time it's televised and special because it's something new, something I didn't even know about, or maybe I did but was to preoccupied to care. Either way, Asher, Riley, Seth and I all sit front row and gaze up at Aubrey singing a song that he wrote completely himself, of coarse each of us will perceive it a different way, of the many emotions he displays we'll have to pick one to describe the song as we heard it.

_A catch in my throat, choke _

_Torn into pieces, I won't no…_

_I don't wanna be this…_

_But I won't let this build up inside of me _

_I won't let this build up inside of me…_

I catch glimpses of his eyes- an over cast, cloudy vermillion- when they are not closed in concentration. He never once looks up and surveys the crowd; he doesn't glance down to see how many people came, to see if I came. He never once sees my face and the expression of the emotion I can't help but feel.

_I won't let this build up inside of me_

_She's not real, I can't make her real_

_She isn't real, I can't make her real_

* * *

The song is _Vermillion prt. 2 _by**Slipknot**, you should go listen to it! Please review. 


	14. NavyBlue: Dead in the Water

_Before the Gray:_

* * *

_**Chapter 14:**_

**Navy Blue and Dead in the Water**

* * *

His eyes are still the dull shade; he doesn't even look up from his guitar and by the time I close the door I decide to give up reading his face considering there is nothing there to read. I lean against the door and stare at the ground, now what did I come in here for again? Ah, that's right, I remember now and as if sensing that he looks up, his eyes are like these walls dead and hallow.

I feel something in my chest and considering I don't have a heartbeat it is a rather odd sensation, so much so that I clutch the fabric of my shirt just above my still center. Before I can look up he is in front of me, I breeze wafts over me and I can smell him, his unique scent so different from anything I've ever smelled.

He pulls my hand off my chest and brings my knuckles to his lips, and leaves them there for the longest time. For the first time his eyelids flutter open, coal lashes combing through the thick air. His eyes are smoldering intense and lock mine without effort, I can't blink, to look away would take more power and control than I can ever hope to possess. And suddenly, the walls are gone, the world slips away and it is just Aubrey and me.

The heaviness in my chest builds and I'm terrified that when our lips touch I'll explode. Surprisingly, my body stays in one piece. His lips dust across my cheek to my ear, "You don't know how much you have into you've lost it." He whispers the words, I bury my face in his shoulder, afraid that I might cry, and that is when I remember, I can't.

* * *

It's around one o'clock in the morning and yet the club is still packed, I maneuver around the bodies swaying against each other like a current, alive and ecstatic. I stop and stare completely shocked at what I see, Seth swaying along to the beat, a girl completely melted into his side, I recognize her, the same girl he seems to be spending all his time with lately. I smile to myself, I would love to get to know her, find out what type of girl can handle my almost brother.

I decide to head to Esme and Carlisle's house just because have no real reason other than just wanting to be there. I don't use a car and start running as soon as I hit the trees. I can't help the smile that breaks out over my face; it's just the freedom of running so fast and the rush of the trees flying by so fast and the anticipation of seeing people who feel like such a family to me.

I feel like I'll explode from the joy of every thing. That's when I see the clearing and slow down, I ring the doorbell just for the fun of it and hug Emmett when he answers the door, much to his surprise. I don't wait for a response, I walk around him and hug Esme in the hall where I notice she is taller than me and has her hair parted on the right side and wears it in a lovely little braid.

She greets me with a shocked but welcoming voice and takes my hand and suggests that we should go visit Carlisle in his office, I agree and we head in that direction down the hall, with Emmett not far behind.

Esme pulls the old-fashioned handle and opens the door, we walk in and Carlisle who is standing in front of an enormous bookshelf turns and smiles, placing the book in the correct place he motions to two chairs in front of his desk. Esme perches on the edge of his desk I sit in the comfortable leather chair.

Esme puts her hand on mine, "Bella, dear, we are simply overjoyed to have you back in our lives again." She says this in a quiet yet stern and loving voice.

I smile up at her, "Me too." I say, and it just might be the most honest thing I have said in my entire life.

"So, how is life treating you, with all the popularity of your band? Do you enjoy the fame?" Carlisle's smooth voice greets me next and the question is one I haven't thought of in a while.

I don't have to wait for an answer to surface in my head unlike at all those interviews from American as well as Canadian press meetings and questionnaires. I don't have to ask myself if it is the right answer or if it is what they what to hear, the setting has too much of a sense of familiarity for that.

"It's what I love to do, to tell the truth, and that makes every little chore worth it. Even my band members, they aren't blood but they are my brothers. They took me in when I was living on the street, and they've never let me down." The thought of Riley, Seth, Asher and Aubrey brings a fond smile to my face.

"Bella." A voice I hadn't heard for a while calls me; I turn to see Emmett trailing his walking towards us, his hand running across the spines of the books on the shelf as he passes them. His eyes are set on the floor, his mouth is grim which is unusual and uncharacteristic and it catches my attention quickly.

"You feed off of humans don't you?" The question hangs in the air and he stops walking, still a good distance away his hand stops on a book, which he pulls out, and reads then rereads the cover.

The question is like an accusation and it should be considered as one, because we all know the answer and I want to scream, it's not my fault, I did not choose this and even before this life there is no way of knowing whether or not I asked for it.

I'm choking on the answer, and even if the words weren't lodged in my throat as they are, I don't know if I would want to say it out loud. Say that yes, I am a murderer and that almost every other day, since I was a month old, I kill people and for nothing more than to ensure my own survival.

So I answer with an evade, I have a question of my own, "What do you do? What do you kill?" I can't look at any of them, I can't believe I have just accused them all of being like me, there is no way that sweet Esme or forgiving Carlisle or caring Emmett of being killers. Nevertheless, I guess that is just what we are as vampires, and at the same time I want, I have to believe that there is more to this life than killing.

"Not humans, animals." Carlisle gives that slowly and gently as if he knew gentleness is exactly what I needed, I can't take sharp or rough right now.

"You can say we're something like vegetarians." Emmett smiles small and abandons the book in favor of sitting in the chair next to mine and patting my head. "It's okay Bella, we forgive you, it's not like you saw any alternative.

I can't wrap my mind around the concept, I can't believe that I had never thought of that before even still, it was so obvious. "If you don't mind I have a question about you."

"Shoot!" Emmett says enthusiastic once again.

"Does the fact that you do not feed on humans have anything to do with your eye color? I mean, because all the other vampires I have ever run into have had red eyes."

"You are correct." Carlisle says.

"I have made a decision." I say quickly. "I don't want to kill people anymore. I don't like that, I don't want to live that way anymore. I want to live like you." When I look up there are smiles all around and Esme grabs me into a tight bone –crunching hug.

"I knew it! I just knew that you would say that, and I'm so happy for you." She kisses my forehead, Emmett ruffles my hair, and I swear that killed the mood, but I laughed anyway.

"You realize that this will take a lot on your part, temptation is all around you in your line of work. If you need help do not hesitate to come to us." Carlisle reminds me, and it starts to make me doubt if I can actually commit to something as huge as this. Then I remember the face of the people I murdered, the little girl and her brother at the gas station. I haven't forgotten and it makes me sick, no, I know I can do this, for them at least.

I nod my head, "Yes. I'm willing to do what ever it takes." A smile and a reaffirming nod.

* * *

I walk out of the bar through a back door, the quickest way out and away from the noise and the motion, the smell. My mind is reeling; the flame in my throat is growing making everything unbearable. I know what I have to do, I can't put it off any longer, and I know my limits.

The street is lined with lamps that glow yellow and the newer ones that have a bluish tint to them. I turn down the alley of a building right next to the club I work in, a the end of the alley is an empty dirt lot shaped like a rough circle with one way unpaved street leading to a street that, in turn, leads to the main road.

The space between these two buildings would be enough for my Pontiac Solstice to come through but I drive this certain way on purpose. If I pick a nearly abandoned road, there's no danger of crossing paths with temptation, especially after a long day of it.

My feet stop instinctively at the sound before I think to. I walk into the shadows silently, moving forward. I'm almost to the end of the alley. I stop, lift my head towards the sky and smell the air. Something soft dances past me until the breeze grows stronger. Then it becomes thick, and wafts around me, I know it's impossible to mistake but decide to investigate anyway.

I'm easing around the corner of the brick building, there is a thump and a moan but no other noises that would inform me that the person knows I'm here.

I turn the corner and stop short.

It isn't as thought I haven't seen this sight before, a vampire catching another vampire feeding isn't frightening or traumatizing like it would be for a human. No, it isn't that it is a shock to me, it is the fact that undead one attached to the neck of the human is someone I have met before. He isn't someone I can quickly forget, and the urge to make him hurt to break something bubbles up to the surface.

I can feel the ecstasy radiating off of him, then his mood changes to annoyed as he turns and sees me. His eyes size me up and then something like a glint of recognition sparks in his eyes. Anger and killing intent is the only thing he cares for now, his victim, a short brunette woman is not his concern for the moment.

I almost feel guilty for not caring more about her, for not getting angry at the fact that he just killed her, almost. Nevertheless, not quite.

"What the hell do you want?" I don't reply just stare and try to control my animalistic impulses, "Your Jasper. Am I correct?" I don't say anything simply glare and try to remember what the hell it is that keeps me from killing humans, the smell is so …intoxicating and it is strong here from where I am standing, closer than before.

It is then that his mood completely shifts. He seems to have figured out why I haven't said anything to him, and he exploits it. A smirk grows on his face like a weed and he shifts the woman on his arm dangerously, her head lolls to the side. He brushes her hair over her shoulder almost lovingly, and exposes to me the two, small bleeding puncture wounds on her left artery.

I grit my teeth against it, but it still gets past me and I find myself inhaling despite the rational part of my brain screaming at me to stop breathing. I tilt my head back, breathe, just breath, and feel something in me breaking under the pressure of indulging. I know now that if I don't do this now, it will kill me next time temptation crosses my path in the form of swaying hips or overly exposed skin. I know that if I don't do something at this very moment that next time, I won't have any control to spare.

"Your name, is it_Aubrey_?" I ask, trying my damn hardest to change the subject, but it is very hard considering the subject is lying dead in his arms. Then again, I can just walk away…just run and never look back. However, where is the fun in that? As the seconds turn to minutes I find my control slipping, and I find that I don't care as much as I should.

I take one step toward him and put my left foot in front of my right until my hands reach forward and this _Aubrey_ seems to be glad to give her up. Like a peace offering, as if he knew he was helping break one of my own laws, as if he was proud of helping me embrace my demons. As if, he is proud of his own personal war.

For one spilt second, the face of the one I used to love with everything I had, surfaces in my mind and instinctively I shove it back to the deepest part of my mind, the one that also holds all of my fondest memories.

That is the only thing I can tell myself, the only thing I need to justify my action, just shift the blame a little and that will be enough for the moment. At this point, I can't even pinpoint the emotions around me. I can't sense anything but the blood, can't see anything but her blood, can't hear anything, can't- I can't describe how it feels, how it tastes, after such a long time…And honestly it is the most familiar part, the kill, that is.

_Alice…_

Tonight, I can't deny myself my natural desires.

_And… everyone knows that she would still be here if she had left well enough alone._

* * *

_Panic At The Disco_is my savior, and helped me finish this chapter. Please review, the Bella and Jasper scenes are coming soon, like, next chapter soon! 


	15. Tickle Me Pink

Before the Grey:

* * *

Chapter 15

_Tickle Me Pink_

* * *

I close the door quietly even though I know that no matter how softly I close the door, the others will hear and know that I am home and unfortunately for me come to greet me. I rush up the stairs and stop at the end of the hallway checking my appearance in the oval shaped mirror above a little table that holds an antique glass vase and orange-red lilies.

The man that stares back at me is blond, black eyes and looks paranoid, but other than that, he doesn't look like a killer. Relief overwhelms me, my eyes aren't blood red, there is nothing that can give away the sinful act I committed not fifteen minutes earlier. No blood on my clothes, on my face and I made sure that my breath didn't smell like too much like human life, I'm presentable.

"And they say _I'm_ vain." I see Rosalie looking over my shoulder in the mirror. Her eyes are brilliant gold and match her hair, which has a leaf in it she must have been hunting. Her hair isn't what makes my eyebrow raise though, it is her emotions: annoyed, resentful, confused.

"What is going on in that hard head of yours?" I say swinging the focus of the conversation to her, this lightens the mood and I knew it would because she would rather talk about her problems than mine.

"Bella came by today." She folds her arms and leans back, taking on a slightly defensive stance, maybe preparing for an argument, or maybe the memories.

"Is that so?" I say, I'm not surprised. I am not happy that she did, but I'm not affronted either. With Bella come the memories, some good ones and some of the very worst ones.

Rose's eyes flash, triumphant, "Do you blame her?" I would have to be blind, def and dumb to miss the double meaning in her words.

"Do I blame Bella for coming to us again after all this time? No, we are her family and that kind of love surpasses trivial things such as time and distance. But do I blame her for what happened to Edward and-"

The pain and a flood of memories hits me like the most violent hurricane, like the scent of a million bleeding hearts. The hall is getting smaller, the house is crushing me and Rose has the metaphorical upper hand wrapped around my neck and is squeezing. I choke, trying to keep my emotions in check is too hard right now, I know this level of pain will effect every one around me, but I can't help but let loose all the pent up agony, despair and misery. It is all her fault.

Rose's face contorts and she takes a step back, glaring at me, but looking like she wants to weep or kill something. "I hate you when you do this." Her voice is broken and she doesn't even try to mask it. She storms down the hall like a tornado, and I know she will scream, she will do the one thing I can never do ever again. Rose will find Emmett, sob her heart out and he will comfort her, tell her that everything is okay.

"Emmett!"

Comfort from the one person that loves you as much as you love them- something that as long as I live, I will _never_ have back…

I have to get out.

I fly down the hall in the opposite direction of the hysterical drama-queen, towards the window at the end of the hall. Before I can get there, Esme appears standing like a wall between me and my release from this anguish. I know she can feel it too because her face is afflicted.

I slow to a walk and she turns to look at me while I fumble with the lock on the big, plain window. "Jasper! What is wrong, what is hurting you?" Her voice is choked. I try to calm down but nothing works, I try to calm her down but that only seems to anger her.

"Jasper, don't try to make me feel better, it should be the other way around! Stop trying to act as if you're not still in pain over what happened to _Alice_." Her voice is so shrill.

"_Stop!"_ I wail shrugging out of her grip and turning back to the window.

With out warning she rips my hands away nearly taking the window off its frame and crushing me to her in a violent yet motherly hug. The maternal worry spreads out and takes the place of the sadness. I close my eyes and hug her back. I'll suppress everything and tuck the pain back into the niche in my mind to be brought and laid across my shame for another day.

* * *

I feel refreshed some how, I feel like I'm starting down another path, as cheesy as that does sound. I feel clean, like I'm starting over in a way. When I get home, there's nothing going on. Surprisingly, everyone is settled and enjoying the scenery or in other words laying around like a bunch of bored-out-of-their-mind teenagers. I shake my head.

Does _anyone_ appreciate life anymore?

As I walk through the house, I find a library. Inside is a roaring fireplace almost ten feet tall situated between two floor to ceiling windows that give what must be a beautiful view of the forest by day. Right now, it just looks kind of ominous. Even with my eyes I can't see too far into the forest, it's seems to be a new moon tonight.

The rest of the walls are lined with packed bookshelves, as I walk around, I notice they are organized alphabetically. Unconsciously, I move further on in the alphabet scanning titles with out much interest, I can't help but squeal when I find a copy of _'Wuthering Heights' _among the masses of literature. I all but leap across the room and into one of the many inviting leather couches positioned in the middle of the room around a low coffee table.

At about five-thirty in the morning, I finish the book, and place back in its place on the shelf and head out of the room with a sense of accomplishment. Every time I read an interesting book, it's like I've lived another life, experiencing things that I couldn't otherwise because of my circumstances. I take the stairs four at a time, I'm so excited I don't think to slow down or take the stairs like a normal person and besides, most people are probably still asleep or just getting up. Humans aren't very observant really, especially when they just wake up, too absorbed in themselves or other things, too deep in thought to notice some one like me practically flying up the stairs.

I take a shower and change into a black turtleneck and form fitting black jeans (of course I had to decide what would be considered acceptable clothing because of this whole _winter_ thing. I have a very idiotic tendency of forgetting what is _acceptable_ and what is 'crazy- attention grabbing'-which I have been called too many times to count by Aubrey and various others). I throw my hair in a ponytail and head out of my room.

I knock on all four of my boy's doors but none of them answers. Their scents all lead in one general direction, so, instead of stumbling around asking random humans where my insanely beautiful and slightly psychotic band mates are like the idiot I can sometimes be, I do the easy (smarter) thing and fallow their scents. Down the stairs, into a long hallway, turn left and walk deeper in the mansion (that might as well be a maze). Finally, I walk into a room, with a sink imbedded in a massive black granite island, ovens right on top of each other in the wall, two microwaves and all four of my boys lounging around- plus my manager and his assistant.

"So the princess is awake!" Asher winks at me from his position on the shiny countertop. I stick my tongue out at him.

"What do you mean it's like-" I twist and glance at the bright green numbers on the stove digital clock, "Six-thirty." He chuckles, only the five of us know I was never sleeping, insomniacs for as long as we feel.

"Well any way it's a good thing you're awake, us guys were thinking about going on a little hunting trip. Wanna' get out in the wild, you know, before we have to go back home. Want to make the most of this time we have here in this gorgeous place, you in?" I look thoughtfully at Dan; he has never spoken directly to me before. I chew the inside of my check and look pointedly at Aubrey; he nods, so I agree.

Turns out, we will be 'hunting' deer, elk, or moose whatever _the hell _it's called that lives up here in the forests. I was too distracted by Aubrey's fingers running mischievously along the base of my skull and in my still damp hair to pay attention to Dan filling us in on the details of the hunt. However, the whole concept of shooting _animals_ with a _gun_ and calling it a _hunt_ is laughable. I can rip the thickest of those lovely Pines straight out of the ground with my bare hands, so I'm sure you can understand how I felt when Dan busted out his Double Barrel.

Of course I pretended to be bubble headed about the concept of guns, not like Rick would have let me touch one any way, apparently little girls can't aim and I might even hurt myself, at this statement I did laugh. Seth promptly gave me a lecture on safety and how he felt 'like a big brother and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if I hurt myself and he could have prevented it' I rolled my eyes and tried to think of one reason why I wasn't allowed to throw him off the nearest cliff.

So after grabbing a coat and some knee length black boots (because of the snow, not just because Aubrey likes them) which I tuck my jeans into, I fallowed Dan, our leader, into the forest. After almost an hour of putting distance between the mansion, and ourselves we stop, make sure our cell phones are still working and do a bunch of other precautions and safeties.

We split into two groups and just run around and act stupid for a while, until the sun is almost positioned at the highest point. The sky is pretty clear, with only a few wispy clouds, the sun shines vibrantly and Rick agrees when someone says it's unusually warm.

We pick up the trail of a moose and fallow it's tracks (or scent, in our case), when our two groups rejoin. Every one walks quietly trying to gain the advantage of surprise since we can't out run the animal…ha! Any way, when we finally do stop I can hear the dear-thing munching on grass that I thought would have been frozen and dead but I guess not.

Riley positions his gun, pretending to look out of the little eye-thingy to aim then pulls the trigger. The release is so _loud_, and I didn't even expect it but I can _see_ the explosion of the gunpowder, the radiant heat and gasses that propel the tiny golden bullet through the air. The animal flinches then darts off into the trees with out a second glance.

As the sound fades and everything stills, something occurs to me. I can't hear anything outside my hunting party, all the usual forest sounds have silenced. There are no birds, no rabbits nothing, they must have split the second they smelled us and heard the gun shot.

We mill about in the forest for a good chunk of the day before we head back to the house empty handed. If we really wanted game we would have game, but I don't think it would be very good for a bunch of vampires and two humans armed with only guns, if _anything's _blood was spilling all over the forest floor. For that reason only, we avoided shooting at all costs, and when we couldn't really get out of it, we would shoot to miss.

* * *

Laughter echoed all around the forest, snowballs flew at unimaginable speeds. Thankfully, Aubrey sat quite a distance away high up in the branches of an old tree; every one remembered what happened last time, so the battle was only halfhearted. Dan and Rick had headed back home a while ago so every one let their hair down and let the snowballs and insults fly.

"Hey, do we have any shows this week?" Seth has a thoughtful look on his bright features; I slap his face full of ice before standing fully and turning to Aubrey.

"Do we?" I ask him, he shakes his head slightly, slips off his branch and lands gracefully, knees bent, one hand touching snow to steady himself. He walks toward me, hands in his pockets. "Not that I know of." He says, "We should probably head back, it's below freezing and we've been out all day."

Every one agrees so we all run back and every one makes a point to let the whole house know how cold they are. We all go up and change into warmer clothes and I show them the library I found that morning. I'm not surprised that Aubrey and Asher seem genuinely interested, and that Seth and Riley couldn't care less about a room full of books.

And it's there, that I drop the metaphorical bomb.

I wait until I have their attention before I start. I figured that just blurting it out instead of trying to find the right words would be the best approach, but here in the moment I'm having second thoughts, after all that approach hasn't helped me much in the past. I just hope they don't laugh at me. But, after I tell the story of how Carlisle had convinced me, and how I really felt, they all just stared in shock. No one cracked a smile, and for that, I am grateful.

Aubrey narrows his eyes, "Bella, don't you think that's a little naïve of you?" He closes his book and slides it back in its space. "Of coarse it would be just like them to jump on their high horse and judge you." He says harshly, no one else says a word, just tense up. Maybe they are expecting a fight, maybe there will be one.

"No that's not it at all. It's just that living their way, no one has to die, and we do not have to compromise the lives of innocents." It stings that he of all people can't back me up, but nothing's changing my mind about this, it isn't anyone else's choice to make.

"It is in our nature to kill people, other wise we would not be doing it, and it is not as though we can help it. We need people to live, Bella, _life_ is a compromise." There is no way he'll back off about this, and I don't want to start anything so I just leave, "Whatever. Just do not expect me to agree with you on every thing."

"Bella." The heavy wooden door can't block out his voice. I cannot stay here any more, or I know Aubrey will be able to change my mind, that's the power he has over me. It doesn't come as a shock that I go to the place where I last saw him, I know Jasper will be able to help me. Not only that, but Aubrey would be expecting me to go to Carlisle's house; I cannot let Aubrey win this time.

Nothing has changed since I visited it last, the club is still vastly popular, and I do not have to wait in line to enter which helps because the mouth-watering scents are all bad enough on the _inside_, I certainly do not need the extra temptation. Warm air blasts out of enormous vent on the high ceiling that you wouldn't normally be able to see if you didn't have super human vision. The only steady light come from the dull bulbs above the bar.

Coming up the stairs, I realize how terribly over dressed I am. Women in slinky miniskirts and dresses that reveal more than they keep secret seem to make up ninety-nine percent of the population. I ignore all the looks, but then I remember I am a vampire, I highly doubt the fact that I'm not showing as much skin as the girls on the dance floor puts a damper on my allure. (Not to stroke my own ego…)

I take a seat close to the end wall and look around. There are three servers working the bar and that's when I realize that Jasper is probably working a midnight shift. "_Hello, _my name isAudrey_, _how can I help you?" A woman with flowing raven hair and grey eyes says to me, her smile isn't overbearing but she looks at me like I am the only person that speaks English. I am laughing one the inside at the irony of her name, I think she belongs on a run way rather than a bar but I don't tell her this.

"Uh, well, Au_drey_, I am still deciding, but do you have the time?" I smile. For a second she looks like she forgot what she was about to do but then she looks down at the strappy watch on her wrist. "Six-thirty." She says, winks at me then walks down to where another woman just sat down.

Just so I won't be any more awkward than I already am, I order something with a long name that I can't pronounce and thankfully it comes in tiny little shot glass. The server from before was patient the whole time I couldn't decide what I wanted and even helped me out by suggesting things that were her personal favorites and didn't even ask to see my drivers license to prove I was 'of age'.

She sets the glass down on a white paper napkin that has the clubs name and logo on it. I tip my head back and down the liquid in one swallow. It burns a little as it goes down and I groan when my throat screams in protest. My hand clutches my neck as the ache dies down _slowly_ but surely.

_Audrey_, looks at me with an amused smirk and leans forward to rest her forearms on the glass, "Burns, huh?" I give her a look and she laughs. "Just scream if you need anything 'kay?" She says and saunters away. I raise an eyebrow, talk about 'over friendly'.

"Well, I guess some people are just _naturally_ popular." I hear this the same time a familiar scent crosses me. I look up to see Jasper, golden hair shining like a halo in the defused light. He's leaning forward on the glass like Audrey was a minute ago, his dark purple silk shirt glittering on his shoulders. His face is much closer than Audrey's was.

This close I can see his light brown eyelashes, and the way his skin sparkles modestly. From this advantage, I can see the color of his eyes is a mixture of black and crimson. And, I see myself, it's like looking in some deep twisted mirror.

He's so close I can feel his breath across my face, it smells faintly of blood. I swallow the venom that has pooled in my mouth in response to the scent; the ache in my throat is renewed. I blink slowly unable to clear the gentle haze that has fallen around my mind, and find myself inching closer, relishing the foggy intoxication and rising excitement of the predator that the hunt brings out of me.

I open my eyes fully; I hadn't been aware that they were half closed and realize two things. One, his breath smells much like the prey that spends so much time in places such as these, and the last time I checked, he did not drink from people. Two, Jasper Hale is staring at me with only a bar, and a couple insignificant inches between us, and I _do not_ want to move.

* * *

The first person talking is Jasper, and the rest is in Bella's head, just in case I confused any one, which I usually do. Any way sorry for the late update, hopefully the next chapter will come sooner but no promises.


	16. Tickle Me Pink part 2

_Before the Grey:_

* * *

**Chapter 16:**

_Tickle Me Pink part 2_

* * *

It's peculiar, I can't really describe it but some things are just natural stimulants. Like the song that just began, so unlike anything else I'd heard that night, apparently every one else enjoyed it as well, because everything, all the noises, the heartbeats and foot steps seemed to increase in time to the beat of the song. The strobe lights seemed flash just a little more excitedly, the temperature rose and the dance floor filled.

Nonetheless, all this was just a side observation, the song and all the people and the movement was pushed back. Human's hearts speeding up and the temptation of young innocents becoming increasingly intoxicated was not the most pressing matter on my mind.

Not even Audrey had my nervous attention, not the infuriating memory of Aubrey's burning words seemed to affect me much. It was as if my vision had tunneled.

"I suppose…" I started then backpedaled, "Oh well, not really, people are just overly nice to me because I'm rich and famous." I said playfully. It surprised me how easy I could make conversation with him. I didn't have to think of something to say, didn't feel the awkwardness creeping up over my shoulders because their wasn't any.

He chuckled low and looked down into the glittering glass that was lightly dotted with fingerprints. He looked back up again and met my eyes turning suddenly mischievous.

"Esme tells me you have turned away from the dark side." His smile falters, "Why?"

I look away; settle my gaze on his hands, fingers laced together, follow a path up his pale strong fore arms and stop at a point just above his elbows where his shirt sleeves have been rolled up. He makes it look like the shirt was designed to be worn that way. He makes it seem like the shirt had been sewn with him in mind. The fit is perfect, loose but snug enough to hint at lean muscle behind the rich fabric. Wine, the color is like wine, more purple than red and complimenting his snowy skin perfectly.

"Because I got tired of seeing their faces every time I close my eyes." I stare into his charcoal eyes, desperately hoping that he knows the feeling, knows what it's like to see the faces of the ones he's taken instead of his reflection.

There is no reaction anywhere on his face. He blinks and seems to think that over before nodding, "Sounds about right."

I smile.

* * *

"So," I say unsure of what to make of this scene, "How does this work?"

He doesn't reply immediately, he stands still, eyes closed, head tilted back. Whatever it is he's doing, it must be important and it must take concentration. He brings one finger to his lips, "Shh." It must also require silence.

I sigh quietly and turn back to the scenery. We stand on the edge of the icy road, looking at the beginning of the wilderness, like a wall of trees keeping the people out. We left Jasper's car way back, maybe thirty miles, in an empty parking lot.

The nervous excitement hasn't dulled in the slightest since then. My mind fills with images, scenarios, ideas, I guess I still can not wrap my mind around the idea of feeding off animals. But if the Cullens could adjust to the difference then so could I.

Jasper's low voice pulls me out of my thoughts; he takes a step towards me and puts his hand on my shoulder, "Just fallow my lead, and trust me it's not that different from hunting people." He squeezes my shoulder comfortingly.

I take a breath- force of habit- and nod, trying to smile and act as if I am actually sure about this.

We disappear into the forest noiselessly, listening for the heart beats and breathes of the sleeping Caribou. At first I underestimate them, but I soon discovered that either their hearing or their intuition is on a much higher level than the prey I would usually stalk. Nevertheless, they heard us coming once we were less than a mile away and were thoroughly spooked.

Once again the creatures take me by surprise: they were much faster than I had expected. I had to actually put effort into making sure I didn't loose them. Then something occurs to me, I clear my mind, block out every sound and let the scent of blood guide me. It was an involuntary action and I hadn't even realized I'd been doing it until it was already done.

The group is smaller than I thought they would be, only eight or nine, but even outnumbered as we are they don't have the upper hand or any chance whatsoever of escaping.

I feel a rush just then, something brilliant, like lightning, surges through my body. It's the strongest I've felt since I was first changed, it puts something like electricity in my legs, my feet find extra purchase on the icy ground and I'm moving faster with less effort.

It hasn't even been five minutes and the creatures are already tiring, but terror and the powerful, uncontrollable desire to get away puts new found stamina in their bones. The threat we represent keeps them from slowing or stopping even as their movements become less and less graceful due to fatigue.

The feeling only grows when I hear them getting closer, hear their pulses speeding up, smell the fear, the desperation, the dread. My mind is on one path, I can only concentrate on the hunt and everything else is lost in the nothingness. The anticipation is getting to be too much, I need to end it, and I need to be sated. I need to leave my mark on their bodies and satisfy the dark, natural predator in me that calls for death.

I'm not even in control of my body anymore, my instincts kick in and I feel like I am halfway out of my body and halfway in, enjoying the rush and yet disconnected from everything.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Jasper leap up into the sky, he seems to be flying for a brief moment before he lands heavily onto one of the biggest males in the group. The impact is loud and I can hear the animals bones crunching as it hits the icy forest floor. Jasper grabs the animal's head with both of his hands and pulls back roughly until I hear another snap. The animal goes limp and stops making noise, and all this happens in less than thirty seconds.

I mimic Jasper's every movement: I set my sights on one of the larger males, pin it to the ground and break its neck. My mouth automatically finds its throat and my teeth bury themselves in its fur not quite making it to the skin.

I pull back and gag, spitting bits of fur it tastes absolutely disgusting. I grab a handful of its coat and pull, ripping the hair out until there is a patch of bare skin.

Eagerly I sink my teeth in and although it isn't the same delicate skin of a human throat it breaks all the same and the blood comes rushing out. The taste is different then what I am used to, and even though I counted on that I can't even begin to describe the taste but it certainly is different. It takes much longer to completely drain this animal than it would for even the biggest human.

It amazes me how quickly I come down from the high.

When I pull away and wipe the blood off my chin I am not completely satisfied. I am actually disappointed; I guess that is to be expected considering I have chosen the water over wine, so to speak. I stroke the Caribou's soft, beautiful face but stop once I see it's eyes, black, dead, wide open eyes.

I stand up and step away. The others are long gone by now, though if I really wanted to I could catch another in a manner of minutes. I take another step back and turn sharply on the ice and stop to find Jasper's dark figure standing maybe fifteen yards away. His face is impassive, his eyes seem to be quietly assessing me.

I look away and nervously rub my wrist, tracing the moon shaped scar that glitters in the moonlight. "What now?" I say because he isn't saying anything and I don't know if that is a bad thing.

He stays quiet for an agonizing while, with that same unidentifiable look in his eyes. "Yes, that is an appropriate question."

I take a few steps closer to him a bit hesitantly, is there something I missed? I replay his words over and over in my mind, until I feel like I should probably reply. "Are we done here?"

"Are we?" Confusion floods my brain, I don't understand what's going on but I assume that since I don't feel any real desire to kill again, that I am okay, for the moment.

"I am, what about you?" I say, hoping he doesn't answer my question with a question.

He nods, "I suppose, lets go."

About twenty minutes later we're back in his car and driving on the main road back to the club. The only sound is the gentle purr of the engine, and cars whizzing by on the other side of the bright, yellow divide.

"Was it at all what you expected?" Jasper says in a quiet, but genuinely curious tone.

"No, defiantly not what I expected." I stare at his profile illuminated by the red glow of the dashboard lights.

With out warning he redirects his gaze toward me and catches me staring, I feel the strong grasp of embarrassment but do not give in to the natural instinct to look away. His intense eyes seem to see right through me to my soul. For a second I wonder if he can read my mind, if he knows what I am feeling.

The muscles in my back and shoulders tense when he finally looks away. It is as if a spell was broken. I am finally aware of everything else, not just his beautiful face or how I would do anything at this point to figure him out. My eyes dart around for a place to settle on beside him, suddenly I feel like this space is getting smaller and I need to get away.

Lucky for me we turn into the parking lot of the club. Jasper cuts the engine and turns to look at me, reluctantly I glance at him then back to my hands, balled into fists in my lap. "Thank you, for taking me tonight, for showing me that I can lead a different life." I say quietly.

When I look up again he is gazing out of the windshield, "It was nothing." He says slowly.

"Bye."

"Goodnight." He says, pressing the button to unlock the doors. I get out and walk away; I can feel his eyes on my back.

* * *

There is no one in the library when I get back. I am grateful for that.

I pick up my favorite book and curl up in my usual chair, I open the book and read the words, but I don't process them. There are so many things I need to think about, so many things that need to be sorted out but I can't form them into thoughts. Even though he might not be here with me, he is still the center of my thoughts, the source of my distress, my confusion.

_Jasper. _

So many thoughts and emotions rise up, just from thinking his name, and most of them I can't even identify. There is a haze surrounding him, I feel like I've known him, I should know more about him, but I can't remember. There is something nagging at me from deep in the dark restless ocean of my memories, but I don't know what. Something trying to surface but no matter how hard I try to call forth the memory it just won't come.

It's frustrating and soon I give up deciding that it will reveal itself eventually. I put my book down and go up to my room. I lie on my bed and will the hours to pass. My mind goes blank and I stare up at the ceiling for what seems like eternity.

--

Eventually the sun does rise.

It's brilliance is masked by heavy clouds, but the snow and ice and people twinkle all the same.

I wonder how long this luck will last. The clouds have to part eventually don't they?

We work on our music video all day. I am not in the mood to play around with Seth, Riley and Asher. I am not in the mood to speak to Aubrey and apparently, he isn't in the mod to make conversation with me either. He is the only one that is still riled up over our fight last night; the other boys are acting like it didn't happen.

When the sun sets we go to the head quarters of a popular radio station and do an autograph signing. By then I a in a much better mood and have a smile on my face for all the people who showed up, which is a lot. After the hour is up we play the acoustic version of some of our singles for the staff of the radio station and some fans who won special passes to get up close and personal with us.

Kind of creeping actually, tree squealing girls and one boy, start asking all sorts of ridiculous questions and want us to sign various body parts. It turns out to be very amusing, after all two of the girls offer to have Aubrey's babies. I wish I brought my camera.

They get free signed merchandise and then we head home, laughing and joking about the whole thing the entire ride home. I play video games with Seth and Riley until the sun rises again.

It's not until after the day has ended and I'm in the middle of my shower that a curiously redolent thought pops up, I would really, really like to see Jasper again. I'm not sure if that is a good thing because the nagging in the back of my mind starts up again. I feel like there is something I'm forgetting. Something I am forgetting about him.


	17. Brown

_Before the Gray:

* * *

_

_**Chapter 17: **_

_**Bite to break skin

* * *

**_

For the rest of the week we continue to shoot scenes for our music video. It isn't that complicated really, after all it will only be one more ridiculously over dramatic and generic production to stroke our conceited director's ego.

Despite that fact, I still enjoyed the filming. The fact that I was forced into only two completely absurd outfits probably effected my opinion of the production more than anything else. After watching Aubrey's performance I was slightly mystified as to why he would be a guitarist when he could just as easily be an actor. There something commanding and enrapturing about his person, the way he carries himself. Especially his eyes, which are absolutely mesmerizing.

The fact that he makes acting look so easy doesn't help anything. Asher is too dramatic and Seth just doesn't even look coherent. Riley completely ignores the directors advice and acts like a clown, which is basically his usual self. I just go along with everything, follow instructions, I'm not as great as Aubrey but I'm not bad either. I guess none of that matter in the slightest, our many devoted fans probably think it adorable when Seth trips or ignore the fact that I look psychotic with that stupid smirk on my face.

But really the best part about the whole thing was that I had a valid excuse to not talk to Aubrey. Everyone was so busy with getting their parts down that interaction with anything and anyone but your acting coach was reduced to about zero percent. There was one occasion when I think he may have been making a half-assed attempt at an apology, but blew him off. If it was not real than I didn't want it.

In the blink of an eye three weeks has flown by. And yet, nothing has really changed, except for the extra hours of daylight as February eases into March.

With the release of our second music video there seems to be an influx of merchandise manufactured and an equally bizarre amount of people buying. It seems the more music we make the more the world becomes caught up in it. Like an awfully contagious disease, jumping from one person to the next through headphones.

I look around, as far as the eye can see there is nothing but land, I don't know how I never noticed it. This side of the town must be reserved for the rich and famous; as I have yet to see a house that is not surrounded on all sides by miles of forest. The Cullen house being maybe twenty of thirty miles away is the closest residency.

According to Rick, the house- mansion- was _not_ a hotel; it had been built specifically for our very purpose, musicians that is. He even went so far as to tell me the complete history of the century old building, in complete detail. This little history was comical considering I had friends that pre-dated the very foundation of the less-than-humble abode. He did not forget to mention an opinion that seems to be wearing so heavily on his mind, that kids our age, barely twenty, should appreciate this experience, as it was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

"_The only thing harder than getting there, is staying there. At the top, I mean." _

That's what he had said after our first sold out concert, which also happened to be our very first concert. We of course laughed at that. There was no one like us, never had been, and might never be. We were like a vision straight out of an Ann Rice novel.

'Once in a life time' did not matter, nor make any sense to a creature blessed with the curse of a never-ending day.

I chuckle quietly to myself, how poetic I have become in my few, short years. Yes the few, short years I can remember, at the thought all traces of mirth vanish from face and I become as listless as the white that surrounds me in all directions.

I fall back onto the soft powder and rest my head on my hands. I can't wait to leaves this barren wasteland. I don't see the beauty of nature that seems to captivate so many of my companions or the majesty of chipped ice, and enormous glaciers floating on an unmoving glass sea.

Everything loses its wonder when you have the power to destroy it, when all the control is placed into your hands. Nothing is mysterious and nothing is unknown to us. Or maybe that is the vampire condition. Give an ordinary person eternal life, enhanced senses, and celestial beauty and bam! They simply know everything. Though there probably is something waiting in the shadows, waiting to tear us apart and burn the pieces.

I close my eyes.

My thoughts float away with the wind, as I can hear the herd nearby.

They are calm and relaxed for the one minute it takes for my scent to dance on the wind down to where the young ones are playing. Their heartbeats quicken and the once calm scenery becomes a something else entirely. The shadows seem to grow darker, unnaturally so. Every tree, every bush, even their own mate, and all these things I could just as well be hiding behind.

Logical, ethical thinking, all of it all falls to hell in the need to get away; to _survive_ becomes more important than anything else.

I'm entering the forest before I remember that these are animals, not people. The only thing I can think of is the thrill of the chase, how delicious the feeling that courses through me tightens in my chest and then explodes in all its blood-soaked glory. The blood that floods my mouth is not what I chased for, but it is what I will settle for.

I leave the carcasses in a foul mood, hoping some other creature will happen along and find pleasure in devouring the animal, as I have not.

* * *

The red contrasts so nicely with sparkling white.

Steam rises in the air in steady drifts, invisibly reaching. He is soaked in it, if I hadn't known better, I would say it was his own blood exiting wounds that were recently inflicted on his body. Possibly, from the two men lying face down on the ground. Nevertheless, I do know better, and I think he is disgusting for it, for purposefully tempting me.

I must admit that despite the mess, it does smell so irrevocably mouth watering.

"Well, look who it is." He mouth twists into a tight line. The malice in his voice laced with arrogance naturally put me on edge. The incredible high that comes with successfully murdering is still in affect in this one. The confidence he feels must come from the frigid corpses tossed aside like rag dolls behind him, it makes me smile warily.

"Aubrey." I nod to him in greeting, hoping he doesn't expect me to stay and chat.

He seems to have trouble spitting out my name. It makes me want to smirk, or maybe rip off his face. The hate and anger are evident, though I don't understand how he could have any reason to resent me. He has encountered me all of four times, not enough time to establish any kind of relationship.

All of my old instincts are coming back to me, as I realize that he is volatile, and might even be a threat considering all the blood he has ingested. I watch his face closely. My muscles are taught, anxious for him to attack, ready to slaughter him should he try.

"Bella seems to think highly of you, Jasper."

His feelings don't surprise me, although what does throw me for a loop is why he would care how Bella thought of me. That is unless he wanted her and somehow thought I was in his way. Nevertheless I did not intend to play on his petty emotions.

"And your family of coarse. After all she has seemed to fully embrace all of your idealistic _morals_." The word appears to leave a sour taste in his mouth.

I smile broadly. Of course, how could I have let it slip past my mind? It's Bella. He hates me because he thinks I am sweet for Bella. How diluted he is. I sigh and look to the heavens for patients. This trivial jealousy is utterly juvenile; I had expected a vampire his age would be more mature. Yet some part of me is pleased that he is jealous. A part of me would love to entertain thoughts and provoke him with little jabs to shoot down that enormous pride of his, but it is not in my nature to treat my relationships carelessly.

"It is up to her to choose what she believes in. You are her friend; I would have expected you of all people to support her." My statement seems to have hit a nerve. He takes a step forward, my hands twitch.

"She won't know what she is seeing if you blind her with your self-righteousness and warped sense of justice." This heated statement has my brow raising, I can only shrug.

But he continues before I can even think of what to say. "You and your coven are nothing more than pretentious masochists." He spits out.

"Sticks and stones." I mutter. He seems taken aback and my indifference, for about a minute before he resumes his calm, collected façade.

"Perhaps we aren't meant to understand each other. But what you must understand, in order to stay alive, is the difference between friendly conversation and suggestive, amorous behavior. Bella _is_ mine. Regardless of what you or anyone else may think." The fire rears up so passionately, I begin to wonder whether the romantic feelings he speaks of are more on the fiendish obsessive side.

Once again, I am not surprised, I was already aware of his possessive feelings for her. Whether or not she returns the feeling is debatable.

I meet his glare head on. I have nothing to say to his callousness, I have no other choice but to stay neutral if I want to avoid a fight. I calm him down some, and nod, dousing a little water on the wicked flame.

"Now, if you don't mind, I have business to take care off." He turns, grabs the arms of the dead men and disappears into the trees with them.

I sigh, as I realize what a pointless, one-sided argument that was. I got an awfully close look at Aubrey's personality in our short ten minute encounter and it is obvious he is merely a loose canon, ready to blow. I have a wary feeling in my gut. I don't want to be around when he blows and I don't know why any one would want to stay by his side knowing his instability.

With one short look in his direction I bury my hands in my pockets and continue on my way.

* * *

We are all in the game room, entertaining ourselves with a game of pool, when Aubrey walks in. The smile on my face withers and dies the instant I see him. The boys don't have to look, they can here him. None of it is subtle which only makes the entire situation that much worse.

The jokes and light atmosphere disappears. Tension rises to take its place.

I can see that this is not lost on Aubrey, who neither contributes nor takes away from it. He walks to the far corner and leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

Riley and Asher go back to their game, but their movements are quick and stiff. I can tell they aren't enjoying the game at all anymore and I can't blame them. Who can be relaxed and easy going whilst being stared at by a dark, brooding vampire like Aubrey?

I know that the boys are going to endure the game until it ends, when they have a legitimate excuse to go look for something else to do. Irritation bubbles below the surface. I don't think I am the only one who is tired of Aubrey walking around with a crown and a scepter, as if we should to bow before him lest he smite us.

The constant threat that he carries is constantly wearing away at not only my patients but also my nerves. Any step backward could light his short fuse. I can't help but remember the incident on the mountain a handful of weeks ago. It had been a tense, long ride up to this city after that.

After a few minutes Riley is clearly so far gone the isn't the slightest chance that he might turn the game in his favor. He promptly throws in the towel and stalks off.

I can't possible imagine how things could get any more awkward or stressed. We all make our feeble excuses and leave the room and Aubrey to himself. I can't help but feel like I'm running away with my tail between my legs and that doesn't help my frustration. But what frustrates me even more is the fact that I actually feel bad about giving Aubrey the cold shoulder.


	18. Amber

_Before the Grey:

* * *

_

Chapter 18:

_Amber_

* * *

It was a couple of weeks later, in the shiny surface of a toaster that I noticed it. It was shocking at first, in my few years of death my body hadn't changed a bit and now my eyes were some odd shade of amber, the likes of which I had never seen. They were somewhat similar to the shade of gold I had only seen in Jasper's eyes.

I didn't know what to think, I was confused but I didn't think the change was a negative one, in fact I welcomed it. I wasn't offended by the odd looks-

"New contacts?"

"Oh yeah!" I'd say. "Red is just too stereo-typical." One of the many reasons I would come up with to explain it to all the people, but there were four no-bullshit men I couldn't lie to.

"What's up with you? You've been acting like a freak ever since we got here."

Just what the hell was I supposed to say to that? I barely understood what was happening to my own body. Changes were taking place inside my body that I could not rationally explain. God, I felt like a little girl going through puberty all over again- which is a bit rich considering I don't have any memories of being a little girl.

Things continued to get more and more tense in my little family. I began to wonder if it was possible to keep climbing, something had to happen, I just didn't know what that was exactly. It was hardly possible that the climate would plateau. Every day, every moment we spent in each other's company pushed us farther away from each other and closer to the edge. There was no way for me to guess what would come next. Those guys were the only vampires I had established bonds with besides a certain person… who was no longer a person but a bottle of ashes.

At the thought of Victoria I grimace, her memory seems to haunt me. Even in death her hold on me hasn't loosened, hasn't faded. Time and distance really are just illusions.

In the next room, Rick and Dan are in the studio as Aubrey works his magic on his guitar. I never really cared about how the band's differing musical roles come together to produce our singles and albums, it just does. I guess that's what Rick gets paid to worry about. It might sound like my head is just filled with hot air, but really I have to be honest with myself. The only reason I never bothered with the details is because I never planned on being the lead singer of this silly band- I never wanted it. I can't realistically see myself playing this game for too much longer.

To put it simply it is exhausting, we go to great pains to conceal our true selves. What were we thinking -commanding such attention to ourselves? We just want what we can't have, what we can't keep. More and more often than ever before, I find myself loathing the performance, questioning my actions.

I catch the unidentified flying object about an inch before it collides with my face. I look down at it curiously, and I have to say I'm a little confused as to why it – a rock- was thrown at me from across the room. Riley meets my 'what the hell?' look with a blank stare.

"What's _up_ with you huh? I was talking to you for a whole five minutes before I noticed you weren't listening." With that he stands to peer out the window. Another few moments pass before he walks back to the sofa across from me and sits. "Aren't you even worried about Seth?"

"What ever for?" I'm not at all interested in Riley's newest piece of gossip. As the worry-wart of the group Riley has proven time and time again his penchant for melodrama. The dirty looks he sends me is scathing, threatening enough to put starch in my spine. I hold my breath, I don't really think he'll attack but I can't control my instincts.

"Oh _come on!_ Not even _you_ are this dense!" His voice gets a little louder with each word, his hands flutter around as if he doesn't know what to do with them. He looks down withdrawing into himself for a minute and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He rubs his chin, his eyes still troubled.

I can never get used to his personality to tell you the truth, but that was one hell of a mood swing. Either he is seriously troubled, or he is angry about me not listening earlier. I know it's irritating to be ignored but it is even more irritating to be in the presence of someone who acts ridiculously bipolar.

"Do you miss it?" I say testing the waters. I am immediately relieved to see the threat has left his eyes.

"What?"

"The stubble." He chuckles a bit before shaking his head. Could have fooled me, the way he was rubbing his jaw was a little odd.

"Do I look like a beard kind of guy to you?" I know he was in his late twenties when he was changed but honestly he doesn't look a day past seventeen. The over all boyish vibes he unthinkingly sends makes it almost comical to think of him as a 'man'. His blue-black locks in desperate need of a trim and the cluster of freckles spread across the bridge of his nose -you'd have to be a vampire to see- pretty much kill the bad-ass message he tries to send. But then he is still a vampire, and unearthly beauty or not, a natural menace to society- and people can't help but feel it. Even if they can't know why.

"Does it bother you?" I look anywhere but his eyes, which are steadily growing more intense by the minute. Much more so than what is really within the boundaries of friendly conversation. My eyes settle on his left ear, because I decide that yes, ears are a very neutral part of the body. And therefore a good place to stare when I can't meet his eyes but don't what to let him in on that. "Does it affect you at all to know that the staff around here are dropping like fucking flies?"

His voice is so low and calm, his face is stony and when I meet his gaze what I find there scares me a bit. He isn't the Riley I know in this moment. He is a stranger, and a serious, grave stranger at that. This is someone I don't like at all, a someone who looks at me with a hint of contempt and slight apprehension. I search his face for a second before the creak of the door cracks open the silence.

Asher walks in and runs a hand down his face. He looks tired and jumpy. It is obvious he has just come from the recording room. Anyone would look that way if they had just escaped from the clutches of a malicious and volatile animal. Or in other words he is exhausted from walking on eggshells around Aubrey. It irritates me to no end –he is such a child! No one should have to worry about being shredded to pieces because he can't get a grip. It seems his weird alpha-male complex is almost as much of an issue as his enormous ego.

I stand and turn on the spiked heel of my boot and stride out the door. I let my anger fuel me, ride the wave of my pent-up frustration right out of the room. Even down the hall I here Asher say "What's with her?" and I chuckle after he says, "_What's with you_?" to Riley. I wish I knew. I'd never seen Riley like that before today.

I walk into the recording studio like I own the place –it's hard to not act like a brat when everyone acts like its perfectly fine to. Almost as hard as trying to stop my knees from getting weak when Aubrey meets my gaze. It's not as if I have told myself time and time again that I can't be attracted to him, unfortunately I am not in control of what my body is inordinately drawn to.

Even though he is behind a wall of glass, perched on a little wooden stool with his guitar in his lap he might as well be snapping at me with his teeth and foaming at the mouth. Even if he doesn't look the least bit angry at the moment, I know he isn't going to be very pleased about why I have come. Dan and Rick punch a few buttons on the sound machine-thingy before pulling off their headphones and starring at me quizzically.

I pull at the edge of my skirt nervously, and then stop because I don't want to encourage the looks they are giving me. "Excuse us gentleman." I say curtly before talking three long strides toward the sound-proof room and open the door. Here is the part where my stomach sinks a little and I begin to wring my hands and chew the hell out of my lip.

Aubrey gently slides off the headphones and sets his guitar to rest against the wood paneling of the wall. He faces me and crosses his arms, "To what do I owe-" He stops suddenly and tilts his head a bit. For a second he looks thoughtful, and he takes a step forward. "Why Bella I haven't seen you this frightened since, well, I've never seen you like this." My eyes are trained straight ahead, to his chest.

I am surprised when he places his hands on my shoulders, but I don't flinch and my breath doesn't catch in my throat and for that I am proud of myself. It seems to be the push I need because before I have second to think about my actions I look up into his startling ruby irises and say boldly, "Does it bother you?"

A single, dark brow raises high on his perfect forehead. I have no idea why I am repeating these same questions Riley asked. I guess I just don't have the guts to speak my mind. "Does it affect you at all to know the staff around here are dropping like…like-" His hand is suddenly cupped around my mouth welding my lips shut.

"A little privacy please?" He hisses to Dan and Rick, who swiftly remove their headphones and look any where but in our direction.

I run a hand through my hair, the reality of what I just did, or what I almost did, overwhelms me. I chuckle softy, "Oops." Aubrey looks down at me warily.

"Oops indeed."

I shove my hand in my pocket and pull out the lint. "Bella, what's this about?"

Holy crow, I'm choking. Figuratively, that is. Choking on my words, kicking myself for charging in here like I was about to conquer the world. "Well you see…"

Suddenly he is laughing, loudly. It catches me off guard and I nearly jump a foot of the ground. "Bella, if you wanted to apologize don't. I don't want to fight anymore, I just want things to go back to the way they were. Before we got here and things got…well, you know, tense." I stared at him. "And not just with you, but with Asher and Riley. They've been acting so impossible lately."

"I can't believe you just said that." It comes up like vomit –unstoppable and leaving me with a sour taste in my mouth.

"What do you mean?" I can't believe the way he looks. As if he's innocent!

"Well you-" I'm scrambling for words "You just act like your going to rip their throats out if they so much as blink wrong." Well so much for tact.

"What are you taking about? I don't act like that."

"Are you serious?" I snort. Aubrey's sunny mood seems to have flown out the window. A dark cloud passes over his eyes, his hands clench into fists. I take a step back, and he takes a step forward which considering his stride is much longer than mine, a single step puts him flush against me.

"Aubrey." I squeak afraid. I put some distance between us but it isn't nearly enough. I can feel the cool wall against my back it does nothing for my nerves.

"You don't see the way they look at you." He says slowly through gritted teeth. His hand ghosts up my side, to my neck, where his thumb rubs circles over my throat. "It's like they are waiting for the right moment. Coiled to spring like a predator, and you-" He chuckles softly, leaning in close his lips caress the shell of my ear.

I take back what I thought earlier, ears are defiantly _not _neutral territory. They are too close to the neck and jaw. Said body parts are too sensitive, especially when another person is breathing you in, and their lips barely touch you skin. Just barely touching, and yet generating more electricity than I can bear.

"Well you are like a sheep." Slightly insulted my hands fist in his shirt ready to push him away, but he apparently mistakes it for passion. My baleful glare is impossible to misinterpret however, and it makes him smirk. "Soft and unguarded."

"I don't understand." My brow furrows. I don't know whether to laugh or to cry because yes, a vampire and the word soft are a very odd pair indeed. I'm so confused at this point I consider giving up, Aubrey is impossible. He is a mystery, and more than a little insane.

"You don't have to –just as long as I have you... it is enough." Suddenly everything clicks. The reason he doesn't like the Cullens, the reason why he is hostile to Asher and Riley. It's because he thinks I like them more than him. He's jealous.

I want to cry. Part of me knows he is right, he should be worried. He should worry about my relationship with a tall, blond with golden eyes. The same man I haven't stopped thinking about since that night at the club and after when he taught me how to hunt, when he opened my eyes. "That's not a very good reason." I say stupidly. Aubrey's bangs tickle my cheek. I know his lips are seeking mine, I turn my head before he can kiss me. I can't look at him, instead I look up, past the glass and see the two human males staring at us unblinkingly.

I step away from Aubrey, he doesn't say a word, doesn't move. It's an impossible relief when I open the sound-proof door, the two men look startled though and I could just kick myself. I shouldn't have done that in front of Rick and Dan. I have probably just thoughtlessly, wounded Aubrey's pride on top of rejecting him and chiding him. How idiotic can one person be.

The two men however have a different reaction then mine. I can feel more than hear their hearts jump into high gear. I can smell their sweat, deliciously complimenting the wet pounding of their hearts. My legs carry me out of there as fast as they can before something unfortunate happens. I leave the door open a little for Aubrey, so he can breathe. I know he doesn't have my control, and he definitely has no qualms with taking lives.

I can't help but feel like I have made some progress. I did confront Aubrey after all, even if I wasn't as assertive as I would have liked. I can't be like him, I don't get a kick out of making others fear me. It wouldn't make me feel good inside to know people cower when I enter a room.

Riley and Asher are arguing furiously, when I pass the room. Their voices are lowered so much that I can barely hear them. It entices my curiosity, they sound like cats hissing at each other that way. "I know your there nosy."

I scoff, "Well you're the one whispering," I say as I push open the door. They are sitting on the two sofas placed facing each other in the middle of the room. They are both on the edge of their seats, looking slightly agitated. "Don't mind me, you guys can just go back to gossiping like schoolgirls." I suppress a giggle and walk over to the pool table.

"I'll have you know-!" Riley doesn't get to finish. Asher cuts him off smoothly and abruptly, earning a scathing glare for his trouble.

"Seth killed that girl." I line up all the balls in the little triangle and set the plain white one down on the green felt. "And he did it in front of two of her friends. Who, right about now, are probably lying face down at the bottom of a very large cliff." I line up the shot and send several balls rolling all over the table and into the pockets.

"We've all killed several girls, I fail to see how this one is any different."It's acidic and I hate to say something so insensitive but I'm a little jaded when it comes to the insatiable appetite of my band mates. I find myself wondering how he knows any of this.

"This can't continue, we have to be more careful. We don't want the higher ups to take notice." At the mention of the Volturi, my body tenses up and I can't stop the vision of the cloaks. Their very name is a threat, impending doom hanging over us like a cloud. Their divine judgment clings to us, and the others of our kind like a shadow.

"Well I don't know about you guys," Riley says, "But I don't want to be here when the Volturi show up." With that he walks to the door. Asher stares up at the ceiling silently.

So now it's a _when_ and not an _if_. But then what else can one expect from a pessimist like Riley. I try to tell myself that it is unlikely that the Volturi will step in, but it's useless. I drop the pool queue, I am no longer in the mood for games.

* * *

A/N: I take back what i said in earlier chapters, when I said that the bella's band in this fic was like a cross between Evanescence and Paramore. I thought that back when i hadn't yet heard of L'arc-en-Ciel. Yepp, they are genius, go listen.


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